


be the romantic comedy you wish to see in the world

by fangirl_squee, madelinestarr



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, M/M, Multiple Pairings, overly cheesey romcom tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-06 08:11:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11596578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/madelinestarr/pseuds/madelinestarr
Summary: A week of love in the town of Hieron.





	1. Fero & Lem

**Author's Note:**

> Every character is Hieron is just like one step away from being a romance novel character, we just gave them an extra push. New chapter every monday with a different pairing!
> 
> Thanks to Sophie, mvp of our lives, for betaing.

_ About 10 years ago: _

Fero opened his eyes, then immediately slapped a hand over them to shield them from the light. His head felt like someone had hit it with a hammer and were at this very moment doing detailed chisel work inside his skull. He groaned. Underneath him, something shifted in response to the sound. 

 

Fero peeked through his fingers, still trying not to let any light stab him in the eyes. Lem, lying underneath him like a bony but very warm extra mattress, frowned but stayed asleep.

 

_ They stumbled back to Lem’s room, laughing, knocking into the hallway walls as they went. Fero had only meant to drop Lem off and stay until he sobered up enough to drive back home, but Lem had tangled his fingers in the bottom of Fero’s t-shirt, pulling Fero back down onto his lap. _

 

_ “Lem, come on,” said Fero, laughing a little, clumsily trying to pull Lem’s hands away from his shirt. _

 

_ “Y’should stay,” mumbled Lem into Fero’s neck, “you’re warm.” _

 

_ Fero  _ was  _ warm. And he had a pretty terrible track record of refusing the advances of pretty boys. Especially  _ this  _ pretty boy. And  _ especially-especially  _ when this particular pretty boy started to kiss down the side of his neck, like Lem was doing now. _

 

_ “Okay, but I can’t stay too long,” said Fero, his voice coming out too much like a sigh to hold any real conviction, “some of us have class tomorrow.” _

 

Fero smiled, remembering. The making out had been nice, but that was a regular enough thing if they were both drunk. Lem hadn’t asked him to stay before. It felt like  _ something _ , maybe.

 

He tilted to look more at Lem, and in doing so caught sight of the alarm clock by Lem’s bed, which brightly informed him that he had fifteen minutes to get to class.

 

Fero flailed out of the bed, trying to shove his feet into both shoes at once, swearing to himself under his breath.

 

Lem made a small noise in his sleep, and rolled over.

 

Fero hoped Lem wouldn’t feel as terrible as he did right now when he woke up. He dug through Lem’s bedside drawer, searching for the painkillers Lem always kept there. He took some himself, leaving the packet out for Lem next to the bottle of water he found next to the bed.

 

Fero looked at the clock. Ten minutes to class.

 

Fero looked back at Lem, still sleeping. He flexed his hands, screwing up his face as he thought. Lem asked him to stay, so it would be shitty to leave without saying goodbye but it would be equally shitty to wake Lem up.

 

Fero tore off a piece of notepaper, scribbling quickly.

 

_Hey_ , Fero wrote, _last night was_ _had to leave for class, see you later._ He hesitated for a moment, pen hovering over the page, and then added his number at the bottom. 

 

Lem had asked him to stay, and this was Fero’s return move. Maybe Lem would text him and they could hang out, or whatever, after class, get dinner or something. Fero looked up at Lem nervously. He caught sight of the clock. Five minutes.

 

“Shit,” said Fero out loud.

 

He put the paper under the water bottle and sprinted out the door.

 

\--

 

The first thing Lem noticed when he woke up was that he felt terrible. The second thing he noticed was that he was alone. This did not help him feel any better.

 

He cracked an eye open, casting an eye around his messy room. There was no obvious signs that Fero had ever been there, save for his scent lingering in the sheets, and the water bottle and painkillers left on the bedside table.

 

Lem eyed the painkillers warily. He’d told someone once that the guy he made out with sometimes always left out painkillers if there was even a slight chance Lem might be hungover the next day (and sometimes, when there was less chance of a hangover, Fero left other things (McDonalds happy meal toys, stickers, a voucher for a half price juice, once), and they’d shrugged and said ‘sounds like he likes you’. Lem wasn’t so sure. They ended up together a lot at parties, sure, but that was just because they were arguing (and then the arguing led to kissing, and then usually back to arguing again).

 

Lem thought the painkillers were probably just a Fero thing, rather than a thing with meaning. After all, Fero came from a family of doctors, he was studying something medical, he was probably just going on his instincts.

 

There was the sounds of paper tearing as he picked up the bottle of water. Lem closed his eyes against the sound, taking a drink of water before he looked back down. There was part of a scrap of paper stuck to the side table. Lem picked at the side of it with his finger for a moment before giving up. He’d left a bunch of gummy worms in the sun the day before, creating an unremovable sticky patch on the side table. 

 

He hoped that whatever the paper was, it wasn’t too important.

 

\--

 

Somewhere across campus, Fero snuck his phone out of his pocket to peek at it. Still no new messages.

 

\--

 

Someone in Fero’s year threw a big, blow-out, warn-the-neighbours-about-the-noise-levels-and-hope-they-don’t-call-the-cops party to celebrate their move into the various veterinary medical schools they’d been accepted into. The last big party they’d all have together, probably the last most of them would have the time to go to in a while. It was supposed to be a different kind of party, the kind you use to say goodbye to everyone at once, but Fero ended up next to the same person he always did at parties: Lem.

 

Lem had his arm around Fero’s shoulders and was currently picking flaws in whatever argument Fero had made about something five minutes ago. Fero didn’t remember what it was and it didn’t seem particularly important, not with Lem so close to him. He caught Lem’s free hand where Lem was gesturing and Lem stuttered to a stop, looking down at Fero.

 

He gave Fero a small, hesitant smile, and  _ oh, _ Fero knew what that smile meant. He leant up to meet Lem, feeling Lem sigh into the kiss as Fero leant his entire body into Lem’s.

 

“So you’re going away,” said Lem.

 

He kept Fero close to him as he spoke, their foreheads touching. Lem’s hands fiddled with the front of Fero’s shirt.

 

“Yeah?” said Fero.

 

“I was thinking, you know, we haven’t… I mean, if you gave me your number, we could still arrange to hang out and stuff,” said Lem, “if you wanted.”

 

“If I wanted,” said Fero.

 

“Yeah,” said Lem, giving Fero that same small smile, “if you wanted.”

 

There was an angry, buzzing feeling in Fero’s head. Lem leant in, but Fero put his hands on Lem’s chest, pushing him back. 

 

“If I wanted to give you my number?” said Fero.

 

Lem frowned. “Yes?”

 

“What, so you can just  _ ignore  _ me again?” said Fero.

 

“What are you  _ talking _ about?” said Lem. “I’ve never  _ ignored _ you.”

 

The argument that followed was like all the others they’d had - loud, hurtful words, that they each mostly regretted after they’d said them but would never, ever take back. The only thing different about this particular argument was that at one point Fero stood up, pushing Lem so that he stayed in his seat, storming out of the party, and that Lem didn’t follow him.

  
  


Months later, Fero heard through a friend of a friend that Lem was dating a French exchange student. 

 

“Good for him,” said Fero, and changed the subject.

  
  


\----

 

_ Present day: _

Dr. Fero Feritas had a small practice on 2nd Street, where he saw everything from newborn kittens, still slimy from birth, to old dogs, teeth worn down to blunt nubs. Every Friday he would travel to the outskirts of town and visit all the farms in the area, checking in on livestock and housepets alike. It wasn’t glamorous work, but it always felt like good work.

 

Fero had been there since he graduated college almost ten years ago, and he loved this small town, which kept their Sunday church cook outs but also got free wifi for the town when it became an option. A perfect mix of new and old, always something for him to do but with an undercurrent of peacefulness.

 

Children liked him because there was always candy in the waiting room, and Dr. Fero ( _ Please _ , he would say,  _ Dr. Feritas is my father _ .) would answer every silly question they had about how to take care of the feral cat they found in a dumpster of their parent’s work. The parents and other adults in the area liked him too, because he’d answer even when they called him at two in the morning, whether it was for an animal they’d hit with their car or a pet throwing up in their bed. That his rates were quite low considering he was the only veterinarian in town probably didn’t hurt either.

 

He went on a few dates here and there but they never really went anywhere. He usually said his work got in the way-- and it did, sometimes, getting called out at 10pm to help a horse give birth and coming home at 3am covered in sweat and other even less pleasant things did not exactly romance make-- but mostly it was just that Fero didn’t feel like he fit with them. He fit with the town, he made friends, but there was never anyone who made him wish they’d put their arms around him at the end of a long day.

 

That was fine though, he was never short of people to talk to. His job and being friends with Throndir made certain of that.

 

He’d met Throndir pretty soon after arriving in town, since Throndir apparently took it upon himself to be a one-man welcoming committee. People liked Throndir, who was friendly and open and just generally very easy to like, and so because Throndir liked Fero, people liked Fero too.

 

Of course, peace like that is too good to last.

 

Fero had been walking through the grocery store with Throndir, just like they did every Thursday (Fero had, for a small patch of time, forgotten to buy food, and ever since then Throndir had insisted they go grocery shopping together every week). Everything had been perfectly ordinary, the same fluorescent lights, the same store layout, and then Fero rounded a corner and there was Lem King, standing in front of the cereal boxes.

 

He looked the same as the last time Fero had seen him. Or, no, he looked better. 

 

Fero backed away from the aisle, dropping his basket and heading directly for the exit. He leant against the wall, around the side of building, breathing heavily. His throat hurt.

 

His phone buzzed in his pocket and for one brief, insane moment he thought somehow Lem was texting him.

 

_Better Half:_ _hey, fero, where’d you go??_

_ best boy: im outside _

_ best boy: i left my stuff next to the cereal aisle, can u get it for me? i’ll pay u back _

 

Throndir appeared a few minutes later, pushing their combined groceries. Fero didn’t say anything as they walked to the car, and neither did Throndir, although he did give Fero a few concerned looks as Fero ducked behind the cart whenever the grocery doors opened.

 

“So,” said Throndir, as they headed down the road to Fero’s place.

 

“Thanks for,” Fero waved a hand, “dealing with that.”

 

“Any time,” said Throndir, “although I guess if you’re going to need me to do it again in the future I’m going to need to know what exactly that was.”

 

“I think I saw a ghost,” said Fero, “sort of.”

 

“A ghost,” said Throndir flatly.

 

“A metaphorical ghost,” said Fero. “An ex.”

 

“Ah,” said Throndir. He paused. “Wait, did you mean Lem, the new librarian?”

 

“How did you--? Oh, of course, you’ve probably already given him a fruit basket,” huffed Fero, trying to cover his embarrassment.

 

“It was a cake, actually,” said Throndir, “I took it to the library last week to say hi. He seems nice. The kids liked him.”

 

“Yeah, well, your kids are like you: they like everybody,” said Fero, sinking down in his seat and crossing his arms.

 

“You would have seen him then, too, if you’d come with us,” said Throndir.

 

“I had to work! There was an emergency!”

 

Throndir hummed. “I’m just saying. It wouldn’t have been such a surprise if you’d seen him then.”

 

“It absolutely would have,” said Fero, “God, I haven’t seen him since--” he cut himself off, running a hand through his hair. “I haven’t seen him since college.”

 

“Well, you’ll probably be seeing him a lot more now,” said Throndir.

 

Fero groaned.

 

Throndir shot him a look. “It wasn’t  _ that _ bad of a break up, was it?”

 

“I don’t know,” said Fero. “I think you have to be dating to have a break up and we were never… whatever, it was like a hundred years ago.”

 

Fero turned his gaze out the window. 

  
  


\----

  
  


Lem King, M.A., had arrived to the small town of Hieron one year ago. He’d moved from the closest university town when the old librarian who still used a card catalogue finally passed on. The residents of the small town had met Lem at the funeral, passing on their favourite anecdotes about his predecessor. Lem sat in the back row of the service but also read their favorite poem at the funeral:  _ There is no Frigate like a Book _ .  

 

Lem spent most of his first six months slowly digitizing the card catalogue, eating apple pie at the Weaver diner at the end of Main Street, and meeting with the librarians at the local K-12 school to expand both their and his library to better suit the needs of this town. 

 

It was a nice change of pace, settling into one place instead of filling in at different places, learning about the people of the town and what they needed, what they liked, what sort of book he should recommend to what person. It was fun, figuring out the tough-talking bartender secretly liked romance novels, or that the town’s vet always put holds on old adventure books but got the park ranger to pick them up for him on the way through.

 

After digitizing the catalogue (and teaching the regular library goers how to find  _ specific  _ books using  _ computers _ ) he directed his attention towards community events. There were a lot of them, spread throughout the year: Bake sales for the local school! Chess tournaments! Weekly and monthly book clubs! He worked with the local school too-- finding specific books from other libraries in the county and state about out of state colleges and careers in the big city. 

 

His favorites to speak to were Jack’s kids. Red Jack was the only mechanic in town and knew how to keep an old car going far past what Lem thought was rightfully the time of keeping that car running. Red and his husband, Thorondir, had a big house on the outskirts of the forest where they helped raise their kids? Grandkids? Cousins? Nephews? --Just a bunch of children, like a scene from  _ Cheaper by the Dozen _ and  _ Yours, Mine, and Ours _ put together. Despite being a rowdy bunch outdoors, they were always as quiet as they could be when inside the library. After Lem taught them the Dewey Decimal System they even helped shelve books on the weekends when it was too cold to work in the shop or help out Throndir in the forest. 

 

Thorondir was the local park ranger for the area. In the year that Lem had been there, Lem had discovered that Throndir liked reading science-fiction, bringing Lem leftover sweets from what he made that week, and following a routine. They somehow always seemed to meet at the grocery store. Thorondir would talk very loudly to Lem about the weather, or the book he was reading, and Lem would nod politely while trying to decide between the name-brand and generic pain killers. (He always picked the generic, a holdover from a college student’s budget.)

 

Lem and Thorondir were in the checkout line this particular Thursday night, and their conversation kept getting interrupted by repeated texts on Throndir’s phone. It seemed urgent, buzzing every thirty seconds. 

 

“Everything okay at home?” Lem asked kindly, already starting to pull Throndir’s cart along his own towards the front of the queue. 

 

Thorondir nodded.

 

“Yes, my best friend’s just kinda being an ass.” His phone buzzed, twice in quick succession. “An ass who loves to multitext.”

 

Lem nodded politely, unsure if the two of them were close enough for him to ask more about that. He started putting his groceries up on the conveyor belt. Thorondir’s phone buzzed in his hand again, the vibration louder to signal a call and Throndir turned away slightly to have what looked like a very intense, whisper-shouting conversation into his phone. He rolled his eyes, turning away from Lem a little.

 

Lem turned to Kodiak. “Oh boy, Kodiak, is Thorondir always like this?” 

 

Lem knew he should’ve been getting weird looks. Talking to a dog wasn’t  _ normal _ , but Kodiak was also kind of the town’s mascot. Lem hoped he was less odd and more... forcibly being welcomed into town by talking to the dog who took up most of the checklane area. Kodiak boofed. Lem laughed, and then put down a divider and then Thorondir’s basket items onto the cart.

 

“You know,” said Throndir loudly, “I bet  _ Lem _ would be happy to come pick you up from the airport!”

 

Lem looked up and Throndir sharply at the sound of his name, as the ten other shoppers looked at Thorondir, their expressions ranging from shock and anger to intrigue. 

 

-

 

“No,  _ you _ made me yell at the Ralph’s!” said Throndir, ignoring their looks as he continued to talk on the phone. 

 

“ _ Wait, is Lem there?” _ said Fero, his panic half-joking and half-serious, “ _ He better not have heard that!” _

 

“No, no, it’s fine.”

 

“ _ Okay _ ,” said Fero suspiciously, “ _ so can you pick me up or what? _ ” 

 

“Red’ll come get you,” said Throndir.

 

Fero let out a breath, a burst of static through the phone. “ _ Good. Man, it’ll be so good to be home and not… here _ .”

 

“Yeah, I missed you, too.” Fero snorted and Throndir grinned. “We can get drunk tomorrow night and you can tell me all about it.”

 

_ “Thanks, man,” _ said Fero.

 

Throndir could hear someone yelling in the background of the call. He winced.

 

“ _ I gotta go _ ,” said Fero.

 

“Okay,” said Throndir, “have a safe flight.”

 

“ _ I just hope it’s a quick one _ ,” said Fero, “ _ See you soon, you’re the best for getting Jack to pick me up, bye!” _

 

“I love you too,” said Throndir, “yeah, bye.”

 

Lem was giving him an odd look.

 

“Our wonderful veterinarian was visiting his family, and he told me his flight was coming in tomorrow,” explained Throndir, “but it will actually be coming in  _ today _ .”

 

Ren, who lived on the same street as Lem, laughed from where they were, an aisle over. 

 

“That does sound like him,” they said, nodding to Thorondir almost sympathetically.

 

“That boy forgets everything unless it has something to do with his practice or a free meal,” said an older man in the express lane.

 

“Yeah, tell me about it, Sam!” Thorondir yelled, before putting his phone back in his pocket and quickly hurrying up to where Lem had been talking to Kodiak and the cashier, Noah. 

 

“Hey, Thorondir,” said Lem carefully, “is it true Kodiak is a trained service animal?”

 

Thorondir nodded, amazed that Lem had been too caught up in trying to not seem nosy that he actually hadn’t heard any of the conversation. Fero owed him  _ big time _ . 

 

“He’s my service animal, kind of. I used to get really bad panic attacks. But, having a partner in the forest really helps with those, right boy?”

 

Kodiak boofed. Lem nodded again. 

 

Lem always helped him out to the car when they met up at the grocery store. (Lem always had two bags, Thorondir always had a full cart. It’s what friends do.) 

 

“How did you meet Kodiak? Like, are you just assigned your companion?” Lem asked.

 

Ordinarily Throndir found such questions were annoying and invasive, but he’d noticed that Lem was always genuinely curious about things. Lem didn’t really do small talk so much as he did what he  _ thought _ people thought was small talk, but he was always intensely interested in. 

 

“My best friend, the local vet? He’s certified to train service animals. The pound here is kinda small, so it’s like he’s rehabilitating the strays to have  _ jobs _ . And sometimes, it’s easier to convince someone to adopt a dog when it’s already trained and calm. He’s really good at it.”

 

Lem nodded. He hadn’t yet met the vet, but always imagined someone who looked just like Thorondir, but wearing a stethoscope around their neck.

 

“It’s a lot of work about getting them used to people smell, and small children, and noise fluctuations. But, man, getting those dogs into good homes? He tells me it’s like Christmas every month.”

 

Lem nodded. “Do you think, and I mean, he’s your friend here, but I’ve been trying to think of a new thing to have at the library, and, hmm. Do you think... we could do an event at the library? Like having people read to the dogs to get them used to people, and maybe if people liked them they could adopt them?”

 

Thorondir had put the last bag away, and kept his head inside the car for a moment, before turning to Lem with the last few seconds of a big grin on his face.

 

“Lem, I bet he would  _ love  _ to work with you on this. Just call his office tomorrow.”

 

\--

 

Thorondir brought over two large pizzas (a meat lovers and a veggie lovers), and the artisanal beer that Fero liked that Thorondir always said was too expensive for only one more percent of alcohol. But Thorondir had gotten some  _ texts _ that day, and he knew that he was maybe a little bit in trouble.

 

_ best boy: hey why has lem emailed me four times today _

_ best boy: hey thorondir why did lem CALL ME!!!!! to see if we could chat  _

_ best boy: holy shit thorondir did u tell LEM KING, THE GUY FROM COLLEGE to call me about doing a thing at the library _

_ best boy: what the fuck man _

_ Better Half: :) :) :) I’ll buy pizza tonight _

_ best boy: no shit. also the nice beer i like. _

_ best boy: he.......... he used a gif in this email. thorondir. thorondir i can’t do this. _

 

Throndir knocked twice.

 

“Thorondir, my man!! You better pop those beers in the freezer right now and hand me a slice of pizza so I can’t  _ murder _ you.”

 

Thorondir laughed, moving past Fero to put the pizza on the counter and the drinks in the fridge.

 

“Hey, buddy,” Thorondir said, before wrapping Fero into a big bear hug. 

 

Fero awkwardly patted his arm twice, before heaving a deep sigh and leaning into the hug fully, wrapping his arms around what he could of Thorondir. 

 

“Hi, I missed you,” Fero said into Throndir’s chest, “even though you’re completely terrible and I hate you and you ruined my whole life.”

 

“It’s not that bad,” said Throndir. “You’ll both be so busy that you probably won’t even have time to talk to him on the day.”

 

Fero sighed, moving away from Throndir to get one of the beers out of the fridge.

 

“It’s not that,” said Fero. “Well, it is that, but it’s also… he’s just going to be  _ here _ now, for, like,  _ ever _ .”

 

“One: He  _ has _ been here for a year already. Two: So are you,” said Throndir.

 

“Yeah, but  _ one _ : now I  _ know about it _ , and  _ two _ : that’s the other half of the problem,” said Fero, “He sent though the event calendar for the next, like, two years, all excited and bright-eyed  _ through text _ about all the animal-related events we’re going to do together.”

 

“You  _ did _ say you wanted to find a way to do more adoption events,” said Throndir.

 

“Yeah, but not like  _ this _ ,” said Fero, wrinkling his nose.

 

“Involving the library?”

 

“No, not with,” Fero sighed again, leaning back against the table. “Not with my sort of college ex. Or whatever.”

 

“Come on Fero,” said Throndir, pulling Fero into a one-armed hug, “You’ll be fine. You’re not the same person you were in college.”

 

“Maybe, but he’s still  _ really--”  _ Fero pressed his lips together, cutting himself off.

 

“Really?” prompted Throndir, drawing the word out.

 

“Cute,” said Fero. He groaned, putting his head in his hands. “God, this is the worst.”

 

Throndir suppressed a laugh, opening one of the pizza boxes and pushing it towards Fero. “I really don’t think it’s going to be as bad as you’re making it out to be.”

 

“You’re right,” said Fero, taking a slice, “it’s going to be worse.”

 

“No, it’s not,” said Throndir confidently, “you’re going to go there in your capacity as town veterinarian and all-round animal expert, and you’re going to convince a bunch of people to adopt some animals in need, and you’re not even going to think about college exes.”

 

“Or, counterpoint,” said Fero, around a mouthful of pizza, “I get there, no one shows up, and I’m stuck trying to come up with things to say to him that aren’t ‘hey why didn’t you ever text me ten years ago’ while surrounded by anxious dogs for an entire day. And then when I get home my house is on fire.”

 

Throndir raised his eyebrows at Fero.

 

Fero shrugged. “Worst case scenario.”

 

“Look, I know a little something about preparing for the worst--”

 

“For forest fires and floods,” said Fero, “not for uncomfortable small talk.”

 

“--but I  _ do  _ know,” said Throndir, ignoring his interruption, “that you don’t have anything to worry about with this.”

 

Fero gave him a lopsided smile. “You can see the future now?”

 

“No,” said Throndir simply, “I just know that you’re great at this.”

 

Fero looked down, fiddling with the pizza crust in his hands. “He sent me  _ another _ email this afternoon about it.”

 

“Oh?” said Throndir, “what gif did he used this time?”

 

“No,  _ this _ particular email had a  _ ten year plan _ attached,” said Fero, “He wants to know if I have any ideas about it.”

 

“And you said…?”

 

“Nothing, because I have no ideas,” said Fero.

 

“Well, show me the email,” said Throndir, “We’ll come up with something.”

  
  


\----

  
  


Lem had been emailing back and forth with the town vet all week in preparation for the reading-with-dogs-slash-adoption event. He was a little nervous about how things would go on the day, but events like this had been successful in the past at this particular library, and everything was prepared and planned out as best they could-- books and dogs ready, flyers posted all over town, adoption papers prepared and ready to go.

 

The only thing Lem didn’t have was the vet’s name, and at this point it was probably too late to ask.

 

Lem thought he’d been clever by asking for the vet’s email address, but the vet just signed everything ‘-F’, which was no help. Googling did him no good either, since the vet business itself was just titled ‘Hieron Veterinary Clinic’, with no mention of staff names. Even calling was no use, since the vet opened with “Hello, this is Hieron Veterinary Clinic, how can we help?”, if he answered his phone at all (he seemed to let it go to voicemail more often than not).

 

It was strange though, the way the vet wrote in emails felt maddeningly familiar, as though Lem had read something he’d written before. Lem had been wracking his brain, trying to think of articles he might have read that could have been written by a vet with a name beginning with the letter F.

 

The only person that came to mind wasn’t to do with any sort of academic work at all. Or, at least, he’d never read any of Fero’s homework when they were at college together. Lem dismissed the thought almost as soon as it came to mind. The world, after all, was not that small. And he was not so lucky.

 

Lem arrived early on the day, making sure to get things set up and ready for the arrival of first the dogs, and then people. He added extra sugar to his tea, trying to focus on the motion of stirring instead of his nerves. He heard the sound of a car pull up outside.

 

Lem took a deep breath in and held it for a moment before slowly letting it out. He took a quick sip of the tea before setting it down on the counter and heading outside to greet the vet. If nothing else, at least he’d solve this small mystery for himself today.

 

\--

 

Fero stayed in the car seat for a moment after he turned the engine off. He could hear the dogs in the back of the van, whining and barking, letting him know how much they hated this particular form of transportation in case he wasn’t already aware from getting them in there in the first place.

 

In the side mirror, he saw Lem come out of the building and start to walk towards the van. Throndir had managed to give him a pep talk to the point that he wasn’t going to skip town, but he still wasn’t exactly feeling enthusiastic about this. Still, there was no getting out of it  now. Fero rubbed a hand over his face, opening the door and hopping out of the van, with what he hoped was a cheerful smile plastered on his face.

 

“Hi,” said Fero, as brightly as he could muster, sticking out his hand, “I’m--”

 

“Fero?” said Lem, the rhythm of his steps faltering a little.

 

Lem reached for Fero’s hand seemingly on autopilot, shaking it for a moment but not letting go. 

 

It was stupid how familiar the feel of his hand was to Fero.

 

“Oh,” said Fero, blinking at him, “I, uh, didn’t think you’d remember me.”

 

“Of course I do,” said Lem, “I didn’t know  _ you _ were the vet here!”

 

“That’s me!” said Fero, forcing the same bright tone.

 

“I  _ thought _ the writing in the emails sounded familiar,” said Lem.

 

“The emails?”

 

“Yes, the writing of it was so familiar, but I… well, mystery solved,” said Lem, smiling at him.

 

“You never read anything I wrote,” said Fero.

 

“Yes, but you have a distinctive tone,” said Lem.

 

“I do?” said Fero, not entirely sure he should be flattered.

 

“You do,” said Lem, still smiling.

 

He looked, Fero thought, unfairly cute for the early hour of the morning.

 

One of the dogs let out a loud yelp from the van and Lem jumped, squeezing Fero’s hand. Which was how Fero realised they were still holding hands. He dropped Lem’s hand, and turned away, trying to give himself time to will away his blush.

 

“Well, I guess we’d better get started,” said Fero, his voice much steadier than he felt, “it’s good if they can have a little time to get settled before people arrive.”

 

“Yes, of course,” said Lem.

 

Set up at least gave Fero something to focus on, which made it easier to keep himself from looking over at Lem. He wasn’t quite successful, and occasionally he’d look up to see Lem talking softly to one of the dogs (bad, made his chest hurt), or looking back at him (worse, made his chest hurt  _ and _ made him flustered enough that he dropped what he was holding or forgot what he was doing).

 

Fero was thankful when people started to arrive. There was more things to do then, more people to talk to who weren’t Lem. He flittered around, speaking with prospective adopters and curious kids, answering questions from what a particular dog’s medical history was to what sort of books each dog liked.

 

Occasionally throughout the day he caught Lem looking at him, a strange expression on his face, but then something would need Fero’s attention and he’d be dragged away before he could find out the cause of it.

 

It was probably for the best.

 

\--

 

Fero was totally different to how Lem remembered him.

 

Or, no, that wasn’t true. Before people had arrived at the library he’d seemed like Lem remembered him-- bright, and argumentative, and twitchy, always moving. He had been a little calmer with the dogs, who seemed twitchy enough on their own without someone to rile them up, but basically the same.

 

Fero with people though, that was something Lem hadn’t seen, not like this anyway. Fero grinned charmingly at patrons, telling terrible pun-based jokes to some and quick, clever anecdotes to others, teasing smiles out from even the grouchiest-looking among them. Every so often a small child would hesitantly approach him, tugging on his jacket to get his attention. Fero crouched down to their eye-level when he spoke to them, smiling kindly as they stumbled through whatever it was they wanted to ask him.

 

_ And the beard _ , thought Lem, considering Fero from across the room and he spoke to a couple who seemed particularly taken with one of the dogs, _ the beard was new. _

 

It was a good look on him. A very good look.

 

Lem shook himself. He looked back to the books he had been laying out of the table, trying to remember what order he’d been about to arrange them in.

 

Across the room, Lem could hear Fero’s cackle-laugh, and he smiled, half at the sound, half at a memory: Fero, tipsy, laughing into Lem’s neck. Fero’s beard would give that same motion an entirely different sensation.

 

Lem swallowed hard, looking down at the books. This was an official library event, and that night had been a very long time ago. He had to be  _ professional _ . He positioned two books, frowned, and switched their positions.

 

Fero laughed again and Lem looked up in time to see Fero lift one of the smaller dogs up carefully, holding it out to be petted by a very nervous-looking girl. Fero gave her a small smile, speaking softly, and the girl stepped a little closer, looking more confident. Fero said something to her and then looked behind the girl to her parents, who nodded. The girl sat down, and Fero settled the dog next to her as she began to read. He petted the dog a few times, and then backed away carefully, standing by the girl’s parents. The dog gently rested its head on the girl’s leg and she stopped reading, grinning as she looked over at her parents.

 

Fero gave her a thumbs up. He must have noticed Lem looking over at him, because he gave Lem a small, quick wave before he moved on to the next person. Fero seemed much more at ease amongst the crowd, weaving confidently between them. He seemed to calm down excitable children and frightened animals just by being around them, which was the opposite reaction he was giving Lem at the moment.

 

Lem sighed ( _ be professional) _ , and went to make himself another cup of tea. Maybe that would be enough to calm his nerves.

 

\--

 

The sun was almost set by the time the last patron left the library. Fero surveyed the carnage left behind. A few scattered book and papers, but a few less dogs too, dogs with new, permanent homes. The ones that remained were tired out from the day, putting up a lot less fuss at being put back in the van. He was particularly proud of Franklin, who hadn’t barked once at a person all day. 

 

Fero made sure they were settled before he went back inside to round up the last lot of dogs. He gathered up some of the stray books on his way in, heading for the main desk.

 

Lem was sitting in one of the beanbags, the dogs sitting by his feet, reading them what sounded like poetry: “ _ I will take the sun in my mouth / and leap into the ripe air / Alive / with closed eyes. _ ” The soft sunset light was just coming through the window behind them, giving Lem’s whole body a soft glow. One of the dogs snuffled against Lem’s leg and Lem reached out to pet it, almost absent-mindedly, his speech not missing a beat. The sight of it made Fero’s chest ache.

 

He turned around and went to walk straight back out. Unfortunately, he’d forgotten about the barcode alarm, which sounded very loud in the quiet space.

 

The dogs woke immediately, howling along to the sound.

 

“Oh, jeez,” said Lem, scrambling up to hit the button behind the desk.

 

Fero tried to go for the button too, his hand coming down a fraction faster than Lem’s, with Lem’s hand landing on top of his own.

 

Fero looked up at Lem, giving what he hoped was an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I was trying to tidy up and I guess I stepped too close to the sensors.”

 

“That’s alright,” said Lem, “it happens all the time.”

 

Lem still hadn’t moved his hand. Fero could feel the warmth radiating from Lem’s body and forced himself not to lean into it.

 

“So, uh, it was a good day, I think,” said Fero.

 

Lem hummed in agreement. His fingers were moving against Fero’s, but it was so slight Fero wasn’t sure if it was his own hopeful imagination.

 

“Hope we didn’t make too much of a mess in your space,” added Fero.

 

“Nothing that a little tidying up can’t fix,” said Lem.

 

“Oh, well,” said Fero, confidently, “I can help with that.”

 

Lem was looking down at him with the same odd expression he’d had throughout the day. Fero almost asked, defensive, whether Lem has something to say to him, and then Lem’s expression melted into a smile and  _ oh _ , Fero knew this expression much better, time only making it more apparent and more welcome.

 

Fero inhaled sharply as Lem kissed him, his fingers curling in the fabric of Lem’s shirt. It was, compared to others they’d shared long ago, very chaste, but Fero felt a deep ache rise up again inside his chest, making it hard to think, hard to  _ breathe _ . He pushed at Lem and Lem pulled back.

 

Fero swallowed hard. “I, um. I have to go. I have to get the dogs home. I need to-- I mean, they need to get out of here.”

 

He quickly herded the dogs outside to the van. His hands were shaking so much he dropped his keys three times before he could get the engine to start.

 

\--

 

Lem didn’t move from behind the counter as he watched Fero drive away. It felt as though something heavy was sitting on his chest, making it hard to move for a long, long time. He shook himself, forcing himself to begin clean up.

 

He tried to focus on the task at hand, but his mind kept wandering back to the feeling of Fero’s lips on his, so familiar despite the years in between. It had been so easy to lean down and kiss Fero, as though the two of them had done it only yesterday.

 

Lem sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. But it hadn’t been  _ yesterday _ . It had been  _ years _ , almost a decade, and even though Fero had seemed fairly pleased to see him, it wasn’t as though their last meeting had been particularly pleasant.

 

His friends at the time had told them it was just Fero being typical commitment-phobic college guy-- first disappearing before Lem woke up and then refusing to give Lem his number. Lem had tried not to take it too personally, but it was hard not to. He’d thought, somewhere at the back of his mind, that the fact they always ended up together at parties, the fact that Fero always left painkillers and water out, the way Fero would laugh at his jokes and lean his head against Lem’s shoulder had  _ meant _ something.

 

But it hadn’t. Just like Fero smiling at him during the day, or offer to help tidy up the library, or soft gasp when Lem had kissed him didn’t mean anything.

 

Lem ran the library’s old vacuum over when the dogs had spent most of their day, trying to use the loud noise of the vacuum to drown out his thoughts.

 

\--

 

Fero didn’t remember driving back to the pound, in a daze until he looked down at the animals back in their kennels. Fero let out a long, shaky breath and then he did what he always did during an emergency: He called Throndir. 

 

Waiting as the call went through was agony. Fero got into his small hybrid and headed towards his small home.

 

_ “Fero Feritas, my main man! _ ” said Throndir, voice cheerful and solid through the phone, _ “How did the library thing go? Get a lot of dogs adopted? Red and I wanted to go but we got, well-- _ ”

 

“LemKing _ kissedme _ inthelibrary.” 

 

Fero felt like he was going to throw up. He could still feel Lem’s hand on his cheek, from nights in his too small dorm bed and also just a few hours ago.

 

“ _ What?” _

 

“I MADE OUT WITH THE LIBRARIAN!!” Fero shouted.

 

The car next to him honked its horn and Fero looked at it in the rear view mirror. The sheriff, good. Good and great. Fero pulled over and rolled down his window.

 

“Evening, Ssheriff,” said Fero, dropping the phone into his lap and putting both hands on the wheel, “how are you doing this fine evening?”

 

“I’d be much better without hearing about you defiling a public employee in a public place, both paid with our tax dollars.”

 

Fero nodded, and he could hear Throndir laughing through the receiver. He dropped his arm down, trying for casual, so that the sleeve of his jumper covered the phone.

 

“Apologies, sir.”

 

“You have a good night now, Dr. Feritas,” Hadrian smiled, big and only a little bit shit-eating.

 

“You too, Sheriff.”

 

Hadrian paused, looking back over his shoulder. “You be kind to our good librarian now, you hear me? My boy Benjamin is quite fond of him, I’d hate for him to be run out of town because you couldn’t get your words in the right order.”

 

“ _ Damn _ ,” Throndir said. “ _ Hadrian’s really giving it to you tonight, huh?” _

 

“Tell Throndir I said goodnight, too,” and he rolled up the window and driving away through the intersection.

 

“Holy shit,” Fero said.

 

“ _ Holy shit _ ,” Throndir agreed.

 

They were both silent for a moment. Fero drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, before bringing his phone back to his ear.

 

“Okay, so,” said Throndir, “he kissed you.”

 

Fero nodded, pressing his lips together. He could still feel the movement of Lem’s lips on his. He felt his cheeks flush at the memory.

 

“Yeah,” said Fero.

 

Fero made a face at himself. The word had come out a lot breathier, a lot dreamier, than he’d expected.

 

“So,” said Throndir, an edge of laughter to his voice, “what are you going to do now?”

 

“Well, I just dropped the dogs off,” said Fero, “and now I’m going to go home.”

 

“You’re going to... go home,” said Throndir flatly.

 

“...yeah?”

 

“Your old college love, the guy you’ve been  _ agonising _ about at me for  _ weeks _ , kisses you, and you’re just… going home?” said Throndir, “Wait, so, when he kissed you, what did  _ you _ do?”

 

“Throndir come on,” said Fero, wriggling in his seat, “I just want to go home.”

 

“Fero,” said Throndir.

 

“Fine,” said Fero, “he kissed me and then I… said I had to go drop the dogs off and left.”

 

“ _ Fero _ ,” said Throndir.

 

Fero tipped his head back, covering his eyes with one hand. “I know, okay, I  _ know _ . But what else was I  _ supposed _ to do? This isn’t some college party, where he can just give me that  _ look  _ and expect me to… whatever.”

 

“So stop  _ acting _ like it’s a college party,” said Throndir, “go back and  _ talk _ to him.”

 

“Uh, no, I think I’d rather go home and not deal with this right now, or ever again.”

 

“Fero,” said Throndir.

 

Fero let out a long sigh. “You’re really not going to let this go, huh?”

 

“You know when I first met Red--”

 

“Oh,  _ here _ we go,” huffed Fero.

 

“Well, if you know what I’m going to say then you know what my advice is going to be,” said Throndir.

 

“Go talk to him?”

 

“Go talk to him,” confirmed Throndir cheerfully, “because when you do that, you might find out that the handsome mechanic thinks you’re cute too. Or librarian, in your case.”

 

Fero groaned. “Fine.”

 

“You want me to stay on the line while you drive back there?”

 

“As long as we can talk about anything that’s not this,” said Fero, “because if we keep talking about this I’m just going to keep driving to the next state over and I’m not coming back. I’ll start a new life there, free from complications. And you’ll only get cards from me on Christmas.”

 

Throndir laughed. “Okay, okay.” He hummed thoughtfully. “I could tell you about the treehouse the kids are building out back. It’s really coming along…”

 

Throndir’s voice kept him company as he drove back to the library, distracting him from the thought of whatever awkwardness awaited him there. He stared down at the phone after he hung up. His deep breaths sounded loud in the silence of the parked car.

 

The lights were still on in the library when he arrived, illuminating the parking lot. Fero could see Lem still moving around inside.

 

“Just go talk to him,” Fero said out loud to himself, “Right.”

 

Lem looked up from where he was standing behind the counter. “Hey, I wasn’t, um, I wasn’t sure if you were coming back.”

 

Fero forced a smile. “Of course I was. Sorry for leaving you with the cleanup for a bit.”

 

“It’s fine, there wasn’t really much to do,” said Lem. He held out some paper to Fero. “I, um, wasn’t sure whether you needed these?”

 

Fero stepped in front of the counter to take them, his fingers brushing Lem’s as he did so. He looked down at the papers, trying to ignore the sudden heat in his cheeks. They were the blank dog adoption papers.

 

“I was going to drop them off at the vet clinic tomorrow if you hadn’t, um…”

 

“Uh, thanks,” said Fero, folding the papers and sticking them into his back pocket, “So, what’s left to do here?”

 

“Not much, we did most of it before I--” Lem coughed, “before you left. I was thinking, actually, if you had time, maybe you’d like to do something else?”

 

“Sure, like what?”

 

Lem blinked. “Oh, um, I don’t… I mean, I’ve only been in town a little while, I was hoping maybe you had some ideas?”

 

“Some ideas about… what we could do?” said Fero, frowning.

 

“Yes, I um,” Lem bit his lip, “I haven’t really gone out with anyone since I moved here, so I’m not really sure what would be a good place to go.”

 

“You haven’t gone out with… wait, so this would be like a date?” said Fero, his voice sounding high pitched to his ears, “Are you asking me out on a date?”

 

Lem’s cheeks flushed. “I… yes?” He cleared his throat. “Yes.”

 

“I…” 

 

Fero had a sudden, sharp memory of a day spent checking his phone for a text that never came. 

 

“No,” said Fero.

 

Lem’s face fell. “Oh, I thought-- Sorry.”

 

Fero felt his guilt at Lem’s crestfallen expression be submerged in a wave of buzzing anger.

 

“If you wanted me to say yes, you should have asked me out when I gave you my number the first time,” said Fero.

 

“When you gave me your… when did you do that?”

 

“In college,” snapped Fero, the old hurt rising up in him again, “god, I can’t  _ believe _ you’re still playing this game with me! It’s been ten years!”

 

“In  _ college _ ?” said Lem, “You never gave me your number! I asked you for it once and all you did was yell in my face!”

 

“Because I already _gave_ you my number!” yelled Fero, putting both hands on the counter so he could get in Lem’s face about it, “And then you _never_ _fucking texted me_ , and _then_ you _asked_ for my number at that stupid party, like my feelings are a fucking joke to you!”

 

Fero turned to go but Lem caught the corner of his sleeve.

 

“Wait, wait,” said Lem, “ _ when _ did you give me your number?”

 

“What, so you can turn this back on me?”

 

“No, just-- when?”

 

Fero sighed, leaning back on the counter again. “Before the last party, the day after you asked me to stay over that time. I had to leave for class, so I left you a note with my number on it.”

 

“Well, I didn’t get it,” said Lem, “I thought you just… snuck out.”

 

“Lem, come on--”

 

Lem’s hand curled tighter in the cuff of Fero’s sleeve. “No, Fero, listen:  _ I never saw the note _ .”

 

Fero looked up at him. Lem looked back, eyes wide, biting his lip as he looked down at Fero.

 

“You really never saw it?”

 

“If I’d seen the note, I would have texted you,” said Lem, “I swear.”

 

Fero looked down at Lem’s hand, still clutching his sleeve, as though he was afraid Fero would bolt.

 

“I always thought you left that morning without saying goodbye,” said Lem, in a small voice. “And then you yelled at me at the party, and I--”

 

Fero let out a long breath. “Okay.”

 

“Okay?”

 

“Okay, I believe you,” said Fero, “I mean, it wouldn’t make that much difference now anyway. I have a different number.”

 

Lem gave him a small smile. “I suppose you would.”

 

Lem’s hand loosened its grip on Fero’s sleeve, moving to rest lightly on top of Fero’s own where he was leaning it on the counter. He rubbed his thumb over Fero’s knuckles and, this time, Fero  _ was _ sure that it was on purpose.

 

“So do you have any ideas about places we could go?” said Lem, “I mean, unless you’d rather not, I understand if you’d rather just try and leave all of this in the past, although, small towns, it might not be easy to--”

 

Fero leant further over the counter, going up on his tiptoes to press a clumsy kiss to Lem’s lips. He overbalanced a little, huffing a laugh into Lem’s mouth as he wobbled. Fero put a hand on Lem’s chest for support, and Lem covered with his own, smiling against Fero’s lips.

 

“Is that a yes?” asked Lem.

 

Fero nodded, pressing another quick kiss to Lem’s lips in answer.

 

“There’s a bar we can go to,” said Fero, “it’s not really a great first date spot, but this isn’t really our first date.”

 

Fero leant back slightly to head for the door, but Lem caught the front of his sweater.

 

“Wait--” said Lem.

 

Lem pulled Fero forwards by his sweater, kissing him deeply. Fero tangled one hand in Lem’s hair, the other trapped between their chests. He could feel both of their heart beats, fast and out of time with each other. Lem ran his hands up and down Fero’s sides, pulling Fero closer to him. Fero’s mind helpfully began to work out the logistics of how best to climb over the counter and onto Lem without having to stop kissing him.

 

A car drove past, the sound of it loud in the quiet night air, bringing back Hadrian’s words of  _ defiling a public employee in a public place _ .

 

Lem let out a soft whine as Fero broke off the kiss.

 

“Date first,” said Fero, his voice too breathy to sound as stern as he’d meant to.

 

Lem sighed. “I suppose we should be adults about this.”

 

“Yes,” said Fero, “we’re not college kids who lose numbers any more, we’re adults, going on adult dates.”

 

“I didn’t  _ lose _ your number because I never had it,” said Lem.

 

“Save it for the date,” said Fero.

 

Lem flicked the lights off, carefully locking up as they headed to their cars.

 

“We can take my car if you like?” offered Lem, “Unless you want to go separately.”

 

Fero shrugged. “Taking your car is fine. I can show you how to get there that way.”

 

Lem unlocked his car, and he and Fero got in. Lem’s hands flexed on the steering wheel for a moment before he looked over at Fero. He bit his lip, drawing Fero’s attention to it. Lem’s lips were shining, red, and-- Fero knew from moments ago-- just as soft as they had been ten years ago.

 

“So, which way to the bar?”

 

The bar, Twinbrooke, was probably a terrible place for a first date, even if this wasn’t really a first date. Twinbrooke was loud, and grimey, and probably had a fight breaking out in it at this very moment. There just weren’t that many options-- the only other place open late on a weekend would be the gas station, an even less romantic option for dates. Fero fidgeted with the seat belt, running a nail along the grain.

 

Lem put his hand over Fero’s, squeezing gently. “If you’d rather we didn’t, or if you’d rather do this another time, I can wait.”

 

Lem’s hands felt very warm on his, and his shoulder was almost brushing against Fero’s where he was leaning over the gearstick. Fero looked up at Lem, taking in Lem’s kind, soft smile and red-bitten lips.

 

“I can’t,” said Fero.

 

Fero let go of the seat belt, reaching up to cup the back of Lem’s head and pull Lem towards him. Lem followed his movements without resistance, gasping softly as Fero deepened the kiss. Lem ran his hands along Fero’s chest to his sides, trying to pull him closer.

 

This time, Fero gave into the impulse to crawl over something to get to Lem, breaking off the kiss momentarily to clumsily swing his legs over the gearstick. He sat on Lem’s lap, with his legs bracketing Lem’s, grinding down against Lem as he pulled Lem in for another kiss. 

 

Lem groaned. “God, Fero, you--”

 

“Yes?” said Fero, grinning down at him.

 

Fero ran his hands up Lem’s chest to rest them on Lem’s shoulders, giving himself more leverage as he moved against Lem. Lem’s hands found the hem of Fero’s jumper, slipping underneath and running over Fero’s bare skin. Fero gasped, jerking at the touch, hitting the steering wheel behind him and setting off the  _ very _ loud car horn.

 

He and Lem looked at each other for a moment, and Fero felt his cheeks flush. Lem pressed his lips together, shaking with suppressed laughter. Fero covered his face, moving so that he could bury his face in Lem’s shoulder instead.

 

“Oh my god,” said Fero, “forget what I said earlier about being adults.”

 

“I suppose I should drive us somewhere more appropriate,” said Lem with a sigh, running a soothing hand up and down Fero’s back.

 

“Hey, now,” said Fero, turning his head to look up at Lem, “don’t be so hasty about that.”

 

“Well, I just--  _ oh _ ,” began Lem, inhaling sharply as Fero began kissing his neck, “never mind, we’ll just-- let’s just stay here, for a while.”

 

Lem’s hands found their way under Fero’s jumper much faster this time. Fero pulled Lem forward a little, leaning them both away from the seat so that he could properly put his hands in Lem’s hair. Fero lost all concept of time under Lem’s hands, his entire focus on coaxing small, breathy noises from Lem.

 

The both jumped when someone rapped against the window, shining a flashlight over the two of them. Lem wound down the window.

 

It was, of course, Sheriff Hadrian.

 

“What seems to be the problem now, Officer?” said Fero, his voice hitching slightly as Lem shifted underneath him.

 

“Dr. Feritas,” said Hadrian, “I believe we had a talk earlier about public defilement.”

 

“We’re not in public,” said Fero, “we’re in a car. If anything, this is private defilement.”

 

“Oh, jeez,” muttered Lem, blushing deeply in the torchlight.

 

“Well, I’m sure passer-bys would appreciate it if it were a little  _ more _ private,” said Hadrian. “Someone called the two of you in as a possible carjacking.”

 

“Well, they were wrong,” said Fero.

 

“Yes,” said Hadrian, sounding amused, “I can see that, although I wish I had not. If you could move this party along to somewhere more private than a parking lot, it sure would be appreciated.”

 

Fero sighed loudly, very reluctantly pushing himself off Lem’s lap and clumsily climbing back over the gearstick to the passenger seat and making a show of putting his seatbelt on.

 

“Thank you,” said Hadrian, “You two have a good rest of your night.”

 

Hadrian walked back to his own car, pointedly not getting in until Lem started the engine. Fero could see Hadrian drive out of the parking lot behind them as they drove along the road, and rolled his eyes.

 

Lem cleared his throat. “So, I was thinking…”

 

“Yes?” said Fero, leaning over to sneak and hand up Lem’s thigh.

 

Lem swore, the car swerving a little. “Not while I’m  _ driving _ Fero, oh my  _ god _ .”

 

“Sorry,” said Fero, laughing a little.

 

Fero stopped moving his hand but left it resting on Lem’s thigh, not willing to give up the contact just yet. Lem covered his hand with his own, squeezing Fero’s hand, a warm, comfortable motion that made Fero’s chest feel tight.

 

“What I was thinking,” said Lem, “is that I don’t know where that bar is, but my place is probably closer.”

 

A jolt of heat went through Fero, and he bit his lip. “Yes, absolutely, good plan, excellent thought.”

 

Lem laughed.

 

Fero managed to keep his hands mostly to himself during the drive to Lem’s place. Lem chattered about his house-- he was renting, of course, but the owner had said he could paint the walls and redo the garden, and he was full of plans he hadn’t had time to enact yet. As Lem spoke, Fero’s eyes moved from Lem’s swollen lips to Lem’s hands, where they were wrapped around the steering wheel. Every time Lem caught Fero staring, he’d smirk, the expression quickly fading into the soft smile that Fero knew well. Fero closed his eyes, swallowing hard.

 

Lem screeched to halt in front of his small house. Fero didn’t get that good of a look at it-- it was dark, and also, since Lem was no longer driving, there was now nothing stopping him from putting his hands on Lem again. Fero plastered himself against Lem’s back as Lem struggled with the door lock.

 

Lem laughed. “Fero, we very nearly got arrested for public indecency earlier--”

 

“We did not--”

 

“--just give me one moment to get the door open.”

 

“Okay,” said Fero, nuzzling Lem’s shoulder, “ _ one _ moment.”

 

The door slammed against the wall as Lem pushed it open, reaching behind him with one hand to pull Fero in behind him. Fero pulled the door closed behind him, and Lem pressed against him, pinning him against the door. Fero leant up to kiss Lem, gleefully running his hands through Lem’s hair. 

 

Lem bit down on Fero’s bottom lip, and Fero groaned, pulling at Lem’s hair. Lem gasped into the kiss, his hands sliding down Fero’s sides and tugging at the hem of Fero’s sweater, pulling it up and off. The door was cold against Fero’s back, and he shivered.

 

Lem stepped backwards and Fero followed his motion, slipping his hands under Lem’s shirt as they walked. It was hard to navigate-- partially because watching where they were going would have meant not kissing each other which they seemed to be on the same page about being a terrible idea, and partially because Lem’s house had boxes scattered throughout it.

 

“Still moving in,” said Lem, in between kisses, “careful.”

 

Lem stumbled as he tripped on one, falling backwards onto the couch and bringing Fero with him. Fero grinned, quickly sliding his legs to either side of Lem’s, mimicking their positions from earlier in the night. This time however, when Fero ground down against Lem, Lem slid down, twisting their bodies so that their positions were flipped and Fero was lying underneath him on the couch.

 

Fero gasped, his hips arching up to meet Lem’s. He pulled at Lem’s shirt, tugging it over Lem’s head and throwing it as far as he could across the room. 

 

“That’s one advantage of getting inside I guess,” said Fero, voice wavering as Lem ran a hand down his chest.

 

Lem huffed a laugh. “Yes, that and doing this is much easier than in the car.”

 

“I don’t know,” said Fero distractedly, running his hands along Lem’s back, “the car has a certain something.”

 

Fero let out a choked-off gasp as Lem palmed Fero through his jeans. Lem grinned down at him, raising an eyebrow.

 

“No, you’re right,” said Fero, pulling Lem in for another kiss, “inside, definitely superior.”

 

His hands went to Lem’s fly, and Lem stilled. Fero looked up at Lem, his hands sliding to Lem’s sides, running lightly along Lem’s skin.

 

“Hey, are you--” Fero paused, “I mean, we don’t have to. First dates and all.”

 

“Oh, no, it’s not that,” said Lem, blushing faintly, “I just, um. If you stay over tonight, will you stay, in the morning I mean?”

 

“I will if you promise to text me after,” said Fero.

 

Lem wriggled, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He handed it to Fero, and Fero laughed.

 

“No lost paper this time,” said Lem.

 

It took Fero a couple of tries to put his number is, distracted by Lem’s hands, but finally he held the phone up triumphantly.

 

“There, all--”

 

“Good,” said Lem, moving from lightly running his hands along Fero’s chest to kissing his way up Fero’s neck.

 

It was just as distracting as it was years ago. Fero whined, dropping the phone off the side of the couch. It didn’t really matter where Lem’s phone ended up. They could find it together in the morning.


	2. Adaire & Hella

_ Five years ago: _

Adaire was having one of  _ those _ days. You know, the kind of day where you oversleep by half an hour, and rush out the door and catch the corner of your open-weave jumper sleeve on the door and tear it, only it’s one of  _ those _ days, so you forgot your work key, and then you have to drive all the way back to overpriced motel you’re staying at in the next town over to get it, and then your car starts making that weird clunking noise it makes sometimes, but about ten times louder than it normally does it so you have to make a detour to the mechanic instead of getting to work like you wanted to. 

 

And then, when you finally get to the garage, feeling incredibly frazzled and annoyed, the most attractive woman you’ve ever seen is there. 

 

One of  _ those _ days.

 

She didn’t look up as Adaire approached, staring down intently at the motorbike she was working on, various parts strewn around her, the ratty grey t-shirt she was wearing splattered with paint and streaks of oil.

 

“Hi,” said Adaire, trying for a confident tone, “do you work here?”

 

“No.”

 

Beautiful or not, Adaire could still be annoyed at someone for ignoring her. “Well do you know where the person who works here is?”

 

The woman looked up, wiping at her cheek with the back of her hand, leaving a streak of black across her cheekbone. “Try in the office.”

 

“ _ Thank _ you,” said Adaire, “was that so hard?”

 

The woman shrugged, looking back down to continue her work. 

 

_ Beautiful but rude _ , thought Adaire, as she knocked on the door of the small office in the corner of the garage.

 

A very tall, sunburnt man poked his head out, looking down at her.

 

“Hello,” said Adaire, “Do  _ you _ work here?”

 

“I certainly do!” said the man, grinning widely.

 

“Well, there’s something wrong with my car-- it’s making a clunking noise? And I don’t think it’s supposed to do that.”

 

The man gave a booming laugh. “Probably not! Let me take a look at it--” he glanced over his shoulder, “I’ll be back in just a moment.”

 

He shut the door in her face. Adaire took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. This was just one of those days, and she would get through it, just like she had gotten through all of the other days before it.

 

He opened the door again. “Sorry about that, let’s take a look at this car of yours!”

 

When he moved from the doorway, Adaire could see into the small, messy office. Another man was there, doing up the last few buttons of his shirt. When he saw Adaire, he blushed.

 

Adaire waved a hand. “Nothing I haven’t seen before, trust me.”

 

The mechanic laughed his booming laugh again. “Just giving each other a proper goodbye.”

 

The other man’s blush deepened. “I suppose I should get back to work.” He went up on tiptoes to kiss the mechanic on the cheek. “See you at home, Red.”

 

“Be safe,” said the mechanic, Red.

 

Red watched the other man’s car drive away before turning to Adaire’s. “A clunking noise you said?”

 

Adaire nodded. “It’s been doing it for a while but it seemed especially… loud today.”

 

Red hummed thoughtfully. “Well, let’s take a closer look, see if we can’t work out what it is.”

 

It took fifteen minutes for Red to figure out what the problem was. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be able to fix it until the afternoon.

 

“Do you have a car I could borrow?” said Adaire, “Or a bike, anything?”

 

Red laughed. It was hard to be annoyed at such a good natured sound. “Shop’s too small to have anything like that. Maybe Hella can give you a lift where you need to go.”

 

He gestured to the woman that Adaire had spoken to when she’d first arrived, who had now put her motorbike back together and was wiping her hands on her jeans as she surveyed her work. Hella looked over at the sound of her name.

 

“Volunteering me for community service?”

 

“Consider it a trade for the work space,” said Red.

 

Hella paused for a moment, then nodded. “Fine. Where do you need to go?”

 

“The Twinbrooke,” said Adaire, “it’s a bar out on--”

 

“I know where it is,” said Hella, “I don’t know why you want to go there though. It closed down years ago.”

 

“Well, it’s not closed any more,” said Adaire, “I bought it. We open in a month.”

 

Red looked up from where he was working on her engine. “Throndir and I had our first date at the Twinbrooke.”

 

“You’ll have to tell me what booth you sat in,” said Adaire, “I’ll put a plaque up.”

 

Red gave a hearty laugh. “It sounds like the Twinbrooke is in good hands.”

 

Hella nudged Adaire as she pushed her bike past her. “Come on. I don’t have all day to play taxi service.”

 

Hella swung herself onto her bike and looked to Adaire, waiting. Adaire tentatively got on behind her, putting her arm around Hella’s waist. Hella felt solid and warm under Adaire’s hands, and Adaire tried not to lean into her. They’d just met, after all.

 

Hella put a hand over Adaire’s, pulling them tighter against her and Adaire bit her lip to stifle a gasp of surprise. 

 

“Hold on tight,” said Hella, revving the engine, “I don’t like going back for people who fall off.”

 

Hella needn't have bothered giving a warning. Adaire clung to Hella as she sped around turns, pressing her face into Hella’s broad shoulders and closing her eyes. Adaire’s head was spinning by the time they arrived at the Twinbrooke. 

 

She stumbled a little as she got off from behind Hella, and Hella reached out to steady her, grabbing her by the elbow. The motion pulled Adaire towards Hella, and she fell against Hella’s chest, Adaire’s hands trapped between them. 

 

“Sorry,” said Adaire, feeling her cheeks flush.

 

Hella stepped back, looking towards the Twinbrooke. “It’s fine.”

 

“Thank you, for the ride,” said Adaire.

 

“It’s fine,” said Hella, waving her off. “Just buy me a drink when you get this place running again.”

 

Adaire stepped towards the Twinbrooke and then looked back at Hella. “Wait could you-- sorry to do this, and ordinarily I wouldn’t ask this of someone who I already owed a favour to, but could you give me a lift back to my car this afternoon?”

 

“A lift  _ back _ ?” said Hella, “What, you want me to just wait around for you all day?”

 

“I don’t have any other way to get back,” said Adaire, “Please? I’ll owe you.”

 

Hella heaved a sigh. “Fine. But you’re gonna owe me more than just a drink for this.”

 

“Thank you,” said Adaire emphatically, heading towards the bar’s entrance.

 

As a moment’s hesitation, Hella flicked down the bike’s kickstand and followed her. The door stuck a little as Adaire pushed it open. She surveyed the front bar-- booths covered in drop-sheets and a half-finished counter, the floor dusty and scratched and still a little sticky around the bar from when it was last in use.

 

Hella peered around behind her. “You’re really opening this place in a  _ month _ ?”

 

“Yes,” said Adaire, trying not to let her annoyance show in her voice.

 

“That’s a lot of work for just you,” said Hella.

 

“I’m used to hard work,” said Adaire.

 

“I’ll bet.”

 

Adaire could feel Hella’s gaze burning into her back but she didn’t turn around.

 

“Right,” said Adaire, taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, “Time to get to work.”

 

She’d been part-way through doing the bar’s countertop when she’d called it a night yesterday. Adaire shrugged off her cardigan and ran a hand over the counter, checking for imperfections to buff out before she set about varnishing. She could still feel Hella’s gaze on her and she looked up.

 

Hella was lounging back on one of the sheet-covered booths, ankles crossed in from of her. She raised her eyebrows at Adaire.

 

“What?”

 

Hella shrugged.

 

“Don’t scuff the booths,” said Adaire, “I just finished them.”

 

“Well what  _ can _ I do?” said Hella, “since you need me to stay here.”

 

“You could always leave and then come back to pick me up later,” said Adaire.

 

“That seems like even more of a waste of time than staying here,” said Hella.

 

Adaire suppressed an annoyed sigh, turning to pick up a cloth to wipe down the counter. It caught on rough patches as she swept away the loose sawdust. She heard the scuff of boots on cement as Hella pushed herself out of the booth and walked towards her but Adaire kept her head down, pretending to be absorbed in her task.

 

“So,” said Hella, “you really are doing this all by yourself, huh?”

 

Hella was leaning on the bar, a line of sawdust catching on her t-shirt. Adaire forced her eyes not to linger on it.

 

“Yep,” said Adaire.

 

Adaire moved around to the other side of the bar, continuing to wipe over the counter. 

 

“Seems like you really know what you’re doing.”

 

Adaire took a breath in through her nose. “Sure seems like it.”

 

She’s reached the spot Hella was leaning against a stepped closer, expecting Hella to move. Hella did not, smiling down at her as Adaire glared up.

 

“Are you going to move?” said Adaire.

 

“Well, I don’t know,” said Hella, “You already owe me two favours.”

 

She stepped back  _ just _ far enough for Adaire to fit between her and the bar.

 

Adaire huffed. “Really?”

 

Hella took another half a step back as Adaire pushed past her, the grin sliding from her face as her boots stuck on the tacky floor. She fell backwards, catching herself on her hands, wincing.

 

Adaire dropped the cloth she’d been holding to kneel down next to Hella. 

 

“I’m  _ so  _ sorry,” said Adaire, “are you alright?”

 

“Yeah,” said Hella, wiping her hand on her shirt, “it’s-- hey!””

 

Adaire grabbed her hands, angling them in the light. The heel of both of Hella’s hands were grazed from where she’d caught herself on the cement floor.

 

“I have a first aid kit under the counter,” said Adaire. “Hold on.”

 

She stood up, moving quickly to where she’d stored the kit. It was one of the first things she’d brought in, even before she’d started in properly on redoing the bar. She hurried with it back to Hella, pushing aside bandages and suture kits to find what she was looking for.

 

“It’s just a scrape,” said Hella, “I’ve had worse.”

 

Hella inhaled sharply as Adaire swabbed over the wound. It was easier to focus on the wound, making sure there was no dirt or sawdust left, than it was to focus on the feel of Hella’s hand in her’s.

 

“Sure, like this place isn’t filled with years of uncleaned alcohol spills and blood and vomit and who  _ knows  _ what else. Plus the sawdust, or the dirt, or the industrial cleaner. Honestly, you should be glad that I’m not insisting you get a tetanus shot. There,” said Adaire.

 

“You really didn’t have to do that,” said Hella.

 

“Old habits, I guess,” said Adaire.

 

Hella gave her a questioning look and Adaire immediately regretted her choice of words. A fresh start couldn’t be fresh if she kept bringing up the past. She picked up the first aid kit and moved around the other side of the bar to put it away. When she straightened, Hella was already standing, wiping down her side of the bar.

 

“You don’t have to do that,” said Adaire.

 

Hella shrugged. “If I’m going to be here all day I might as well do  _ something _ .”

 

With Hella’s help, finishing the first coat of varnish on the bar took much less time than Adaire was expecting. When she went to go get a start on sanding off the remains of the old paint on the kitchen cupboards, Hella followed her there too, starting from the opposite end.

 

They worked in companionable silence, which Adaire was mostly grateful for. On one hand, Hella didn’t ask questions, keeping any curiosity about Adaire’s words to herself. On the other hand, not talking meant that Adaire felt very aware of her own breathing in the silence. 

 

It also meant that there was nothing to distract her from the sight of Hella, lifting her t-shirt up to wipe the sweat off her forehead. Adaire hurriedly looked back at the sandpaper in her hand, swallowing hard. By the end of the day, the muscles in her neck felt tight from keeping herself from pointedly  _ not _ looking at Hella.

 

The sun was setting as Adaire locked up. Hella leant on the wall beside the door as she checked and double-checked the locks.

 

“Thanks for your help today,” said Adaire.

 

“Like I said,” said Hella, “You can just owe me.”

 

Hella smiled and straightened, pushing off the wall. The movement brought her into a patch of afternoon sunlight and took Adaire’s breath away with it. She was sweaty, dirty, and she had the smudge of oil on her face from that morning, and she was still the most attractive woman Adaire had even seen.

 

“Collect anytime,” said Adaire.

  
  


_ Present day: _

The man made a loud  _ crash _ as Hella threw him against the bar stools. As he stumbled, trying to find his footing, Hella turned and hit his friend in the head with her pool cue. He reeled backwards, clutching his head. She didn’t see any blood, so he would probably be fine. She hit again, in the chest this time, and he staggered backwards, clumsily grabbing hold of the pool table for support.

 

The first man grabbed at her, getting a few hits in before Hella could get enough distance to use the pool cue on him too, kicking out at his legs and stepping away as he fell to the floor. His friend lunged at her, only to be pulled back by his shirt collar. He made an angry, choking sound, struggling to turn, then freezing as he saw who it was.

 

Hella grinned, wiping at the blood from her split lip with the back of her hand. “Evening, Sheriff.”

 

“She started it!” said the man.

 

“And I’m finishing it,” said Hadrian, stepping in between them.

 

“Keeping her out of jail because you’ve got a date later, I bet,” muttered the man.

 

Hadrian gave no reaction to show that he’d heard. Hella rolled her eyes. Hieron was a small place. This wasn’t be the first time people had claimed Hella got special treatment because she’d dated Hadrian in high school and it wouldn’t be the last.

 

“The lady was just defending herself,” said Adaire from the bar, “she should be allowed to enjoy the rest of her night.”

 

Hadrian helped the fallen man to his feet, taking him and his friend by their arms.

 

He gave Hella a concerned look. “You alright?”

 

“I’m fine,” said Hella, “I could have taken those guys.”

 

“I’ve got her,” said Adaire.

 

Hadrian looked over her shoulder to Adaire and nodded, turning to pull both men out of the bar.

 

Hella leant backwards on the bar and watched them leave. Her lip throbbed and she ran her tongue along it, trying to soothe it.

 

Adaire slid a drink towards her and Hella raised an eyebrow at her.

 

“First two guys try and beat me up and now you’re serving me water?”

 

“It’s almost closing time,” said Adaire, “I know you’ll be wanting to sober up before you drive.”

 

“You and Hadrian fuss too much,” said Hella.

 

“We fuss just enough,” said Adaire, moving away down the bar to serve someone.

 

Hella sipped her water as she watched Adaire’s swift movements. She seemed to have some kind of sixth sense when she was behind the bar, swatting away someone’s hand as they tried to reach behind the counter for a beer while accepting payment from someone else.

 

Adaire was also skilled at hustling people out after closing time. She’d been good at it ever since Hella had known her, smooth-talking people as she walked them out the door before they’d even registered they’d slid off their barstool. 

 

She always let Hella hang around though, especially after a fight. That was mostly so that she could check over Hella’s wounds, which was annoying but also… nice. Adaire was pretty decent at patching people up, which cut down on emergency room visits and Hadrian fussing over her the next day, which was a bonus.

 

Adaire turned to her after she’d locked the door, motioning for Hella to hop up on the pool table. Hella rolled her eyes but did so, swinging her legs back and forth as she waited for Adaire to return with the first aid kit. The worn fabric of the pool table felt familiar under Hella’s hands.

 

Adaire set to kit down on the table next to Hella and Hella dutifully held her hands out. It didn’t look so bad to her-- barely any blood, and you should see the other guy-- but it always seemed to make Adaire feel better to check her over after a fight. 

 

“I got blood on your pool table again,” said Hella.

 

Adaire shrugged. “It’s had worse on it by now, I’m sure.”

 

Adaire quietly examined Hella’s hands, testing bruises and cleaning split knuckles. Her hands were warm and steady on Hella’s, softly running over Hella’s palms.

 

Hella watched the top of Adaire’s head as she worked. Sitting on the pool table while Adaire stood got them to almost the same height but not  _ quite _ , a fact which amused Hella and made Adaire scowl adorably whenever Hella mentioned it. It was less amusing when Adaire moved closer, tilting Hella’s face down to her to take a closer look at Hella’s split lip. 

 

“What’s the verdict?” said Hella. 

 

Her voice was a lot quieter, a lot less brash, than she’d meant it to be. She swallowed hard.

 

“You’ll survive to brawl another day,” said Adaire. “Although I wish you wouldn’t.”

 

Adaire's normally rock-steady hands trembled, just a little, as she reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind Hella's ear. Hella froze, her hand gripping the edge of the pool table to stop herself from leaning into Adaire’s touch.

 

"You okay, ma'am?” said Hella, forcing a grin, “Need a little bit more liquid courage?" 

 

"I think I have all the courage I need right now in my hands,” said Adaire. “I’m not sure I could handle any more of it.”

 

She stepped back, turning away to repack the first aid kit. Even though it had been a light touch, Hella could still feel the imprint of Adaire’s hand on her cheek. Part of her wanted to reach out and take Adaire’s hands, replacing the suddenly-missing warmth. But part of her always thought that with Adaire, and it was easy to ignore it by now.

 

Instead, she rolled her eyes, pushing herself off the table. 

 

“I’m gonna head off,” said Hella.

 

Adaire nodded without turning around. “Drive safe.”

 

“I always do.”

 

She heard Adaire huff a laugh as she headed to the door.

 

Hella felt tired on the way home, the vibration from the bike jolting her bones as she skirted around potholes, but the moment she flopped down in bed she felt wide awake again. Her lip throbbed in time with her heartbeat. It was like this sometimes, after a fight, the adrenaline pumping through her. 

 

It had nothing to do with the imprint of warmth from Adaire’s hands, brushing against her skin. Hella rolled onto her side, the cheek Adaire had touch pressing into the pillow. She rubbed her face against the fabric, trying to dislodge the feeling, but the ghost of the impression of Adaire’s hand remained.

 

If Hella was honest, this was starting to become a problem. She’d always flirted with Adaire a little, because Adaire had a very pretty blush and could sometimes be startled into bright laughter, but she was starting to think about Adaire when she wasn’t around. Worse still, she’d started to wish that Adaire  _ was _ there when she wasn’t around.

 

If it had been anyone else, Hella wouldn’t have hesitated in asking them out. Adaire had even given her an opening when they’d met, and she could have collected on it, but… she hadn’t. She’d been having too much fun leaning over the bar to say things that made the tips of Adaire ears turn pink, and now...

 

Now she wished she could lean over the bar and brush Adaire’s hair out of her eyes when she got frazzled during a busy night. Or that she could be on the same side of the bar as Adaire, to pull her close, her arm around Adaire’s shoulders. Or even just leave with Adaire at the end of the night, Adaire’s small but sure hands clutched around her waist as she drove them home.

 

Hella sighed, rolling back onto her back. She reached up, tucking the strand of hair behind her ear in an echo of Adaire’s movement. 

 

It was probably just as well. If she’d gone on a date with Adaire it would have gone just as terribly as dates she went on with other people, and then she wouldn’t get to talk to Adaire at all; not about how terrible the date had gone, not even about how much she wished it had gone well. Thinking about that felt like something heavy was sitting on her chest.

 

Besides, Adaire always said she was too busy to date. She even lived above the bar, so she could keep an eye on things when they weren’t open.

 

So it was all for the best. Really. She got to see Adaire all the time without messing things up with bringing  _ feelings _ or  _ dating _ into it. So. Everything was perfect.

 

Hella stared up at the ceiling.

 

Yeah. She wouldn’t change a thing.

 

\- 

 

Hella was woken by a far-too-early-in-the-morning knock at her door. She wrapped her blanket around her shoulders to answer it, checking through the peep-hole before she opened it.

 

It was Hadrian, of course, bearing cheap pastries and take away coffee. Hella sighed, stepping back to let him inside.

 

“I can’t stay long,” said Hadrian, “I just wanted to check you were okay before I headed into work.”

 

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” said Hella, “I don’t know why you and Adaire act like every punch is going to send me to the hospital. I’m not made of glass, I can take a few hits.”

 

“I know you can,” said Hadrian, “it’s just that we’d prefer you didn’t.”

 

“I think Adaire just wishes I’d stop wrecking her bar.” 

 

She took the lid off the cup, blowing on it before she took a sip. Hadrian was staring at her.

 

“What?”

 

“Adaire... cares about you,” said Hadrian slowly.

 

“I know she cares,” said Hella, waving a hand, “but I’m pretty sure she cares about her bar more. It’s not caring in a serious way.”

 

“Hella--” Hadrian’s phone buzzed. He looked at it and sighed. “I have to go but-- Adaire  _ does  _ care about you. Don’t treat her like she doesn’t. And don’t treat yourself that way either.”

 

“What’s  _ that _ supposed to mean?”

 

“That you’re not caring in a serious way, too,” said Hadrian, typing a reply with one hand, his tone distracted. “You’re important, your health is important.”

 

Hadrian sighed down at his phone. “This Deputy of mine, I swear.” He flipped his phone closed. Turning his attention back to Hella he said, “Your happiness is important, Hella. I know the leather jacket and the rustic apartment is a cool look, but at some point you gotta start thinking about why those dates you go on always end up badly, and why you always run to the Twinbrooke to drown your sorrows.”

 

Hella squinted. “The drinks are cheap, the bartender is beautiful.”

 

Hadrian sighed again, before kissing the top of her head. “Try not to get in any fights today.”

 

“No promises,” said Hella, wrinkling her nose.

 

Hadrian laughed and let himself out.

 

Hella’s small house seemed very quiet without Hadrian there. She finished the pastries and coffee, wandering around her house as she brushed her teeth. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Adaire.

 

Adaire’s hands, soft and gentle as she did what she could for Hella’s cuts and bruises. Adaire, humming along with whatever someone had put on the jukebox as she poured drinks. Adaire, letting her stay after hours when she didn’t feel like going home, their faces close together as they leaned over the bar towards each other, voices quiet as they spoke, making even the most mundane thing feel like a shared secret.

 

Hella shook herself. She’d go for a ride to clear her head.

 

-

 

Twenty minutes later, the ride hadn’t really worked. She’d let the road take her where it would, following around bends without thinking of her mental map of Hieron’s roads, and ended up in front of the Twinbrooke.

 

It was closed, but she could see Adaire moving around inside, so she knocked in the window. After a moment, Adaire stuck her head around the door.

 

“I know I always say patrons can come by a little early but this is pushing it,” said Adaire.

 

Hella opened her mouth, then shut it again.

 

“Hella?” said Adaire,  taking a step towards her.

 

“I didn’t have work today,” said Hella, “Not much else to do in this town. Thought I’d stop by, see if you needed anything. I can--”

 

“No, no,” said Adaire quickly, “come on in. I’m just working on a new mixed drink, inspired by you actually.”

 

Adaire was smiling, and Hella grinned back.  _ This _ she knew how to deal with.

 

“Oh, really?”

 

“Yep,” said Adaire, leading her back inside, “it’s called the Liquid Courage and it contains three different rums.”

 

“A woman after my own heart,” said Hella, sitting down at her usual spot along the bar to watch Adaire work.

 

“So many have said,” said Adaire, looking back down at the pile of receipts she was going over.

 

“Can I get it half price,” said Hella, “since I inspired it?”

 

Adaire hummed. “Maybe.”

 

“What about if I get it half price and pay for the other half another way?”

 

“I usually discourage that,” said Adaire, “it sets a bad precedent. If I let you pay for it that way once, how do I know you won’t try to pay that way every time?”

 

Hella stretched her arms across the bar, letting her head rest on them as she looked at Adaire. “Doesn’t sound like a bad system to me.”

 

Adaire dropped her pen, ducking under the counter to get it. She looked a little pink when she emerged.

 

“Well,” Adaire cleared her throat. “I guess we’ll just see how it goes.”

 

Hella stayed the rest of the afternoon - one of the taps in the kitchen had a very slow leak and the jukebox kept skipping every fourth song - and slowly people trickled in. Hella sat in her usual spot, slowly sipping her drink (a Liquid Courage, of course), trying not to think about much of anything and failing. She’d managed to zone out for a little bit and then she caught sight of Adaire out of the corner of her eye.

 

Adaire laughed at something someone said, and Hella’s hand tightened around her glass. She hadn’t drunk much of it. Her chest felt too tight to be able to get it down.

 

“Hella?”

 

Hella blinked, looking at Adaire. The lighting in the room was dimmer than it should be, and it took a moment to realise that it was because all the lights were off apart from the ones behind the bar. Adaire had, from the looks of things, already finished packing things up for the night, the chairs already flipped on tables and the quiet hum of the dishwasher coming from the kitchen.

 

Hella rubbed a hand over her face. “Sorry.”

 

“It’s fine, I just didn’t want to turn the lights off with you still here, not that it seemed like you would have noticed.”

 

Hella snorted. “It wasn’t  _ that _ strong of a drink.”

 

Adaire huffed a laughed. She was hovering, just on the edge of Hella’s field of vision, as though she was waiting for something. Hella traced her thumb along the woodgrain of the bar.

 

“Hey, are you…” began Adaire. ”You’ve been quiet tonight. Not that I don’t appreciate having to call Hadrian over to throw people out, but…”

 

“I  _ knew  _ it was you that did that,” said Hella.

 

“Well, yeah, it’s my place, I’m gonna call the cops if people start wrecking it,” said Adaire.

 

“Yeah,” said Hella quietly, “I figured.”

 

“And I’m not a huge fan of them messing with--” Adaire paused, “with my favourite patron.”

 

“I don’t think I spend enough money here to be your favourite patron,” said Hella, trying to pull herself back onto familiar ground.

 

Adaire put a hand on Hella’s arm. Hella’s breath caught in her throat. She looked down at Adaire’s hand, pale against the dark leather of her jacket.

 

“True,” said Adaire, “But you’re the one I like to see the most.”

 

Very, very slowly, Adaire reached up and brushed the hair away from Hella’s face. Something in the motion of it overlaid itself with the brush of Adaire’s hand the night before, and every time before that, going back  _ years _ . Except tonight, there were no cuts or bruises to excuse the motion. As Adaire went to pull her hand back, Hella caught hold of it, keeping it to the side of her face. 

 

“Hella?” breathed Adaire.

 

Hella leant forward, feeling her heart pounding in her chest, and pressed her lips to Adaire’s. Adaire froze. Hella leant back, apologies and excuses ready on her tongue, but then Adaire caught her shoulders, holding her in place as she kissed Hella, going up on tiptoes as she pressed her back.

 

Adaire’s kiss was deeper than her own had been. Hella slid off the bar stool so she could pull Adaire closer to her, running her hands along Adaire’s back. Adaire sighed into her mouth, her hands going to Hella’s hair, a quick tug to keep Hella where Adaire wanted.

 

Adaire pressed Hella back against the bar, sucking Hella’s bottom lip into her mouth. Hella groaned. Adaire huffed a laugh, pulling back. Hella kept her arms around Adaire, keeping their bodies pressed together. Adaire ran her hands lightly along Hella’s collarbones, almost reverently.

 

“What are we  _ doing _ ?” said Adaire.

 

“If you have to ask I must not be doing it right,” said Hella.

 

Adaire picked at the flecks of paint that speckled the front of Hella’s t-shirt.

 

“No, I mean, what is this, to you?” said Adaire. “Is this a one night only thing? Which is fine, but I like ground rules, and I’d rather know that going in, because-- what?” 

 

“It’s… this is me, finally getting around to collecting on the favour you owe me, like I should have done years ago” said Hella.

 

Adaire looked down. “Oh. A favour, sure.”

 

“No, Adaire,” said Hella, “I meant like… as in, when you said ‘collect on the favour anytime’ I should have said ‘great, pick you up tonight and every night for the rest of our lives’ and not… whatever it was I actually said.”

 

Adaire slowly looked up at her. “You asked if I needed a lift anywhere else, which I thought was kind of weird at the time since you were dropping me to my car, but in retrospect that was probably some kind of pick up line.”

 

Hella huffed a laugh. “Yeah, probably. Although if you’d said yes we could have done  _ this _ ,” said Hella, punctuating the word by pressing Adaire closer to her, running her hands down Adaire’s back, “a lot sooner.”

 

“Looks like we both have lost time to make up for,” said Adaire.

 

Hella leant down to kiss her again. Adaire pushed Hella’s jacket off her shoulders, wriggling out of her own cardigan. She slid her hands up around the back of Hella’s neck, pulling Hella in for another kiss, even more heated than the last. Hella slid her hands under the fabric of Adaire’s t-shirt and Adaire gasped into her mouth.

 

Hella grinned, shifting slightly so that one of her thighs was in-between Adaire’s legs, pulling another short gasp from Adaire as Hella pulled at her hips, grinding Adaire against her. Hella kissed down Adaire’s neck, making a frustrated noise as she reached the fabric of Adaire’s t-shirt. 

 

Adaire huffed a laugh. “Good thing I only live a floor away.”.

 

“It  _ is  _ a good thing,” said Hella grinning, “in fact--”

 

She pulled Adaire up, sliding her hands underneath Adaire. Adaire made a soft sound of surprise at their changed positions, her nails digging into Hella’s skin slightly. Hella gasped.

 

“Upstairs,” suggested Adaire.

 

“Upstairs,” agreed Hella.

 

It took them a while to make it there. Hella kept stopping to press Adaire against the closest wall, delighted at the ways she could make Adaire sigh and twist her hands in Hella’s t-shirt. She managed to pull Adaire’s shirt off with one hand, and some assistance from Adaire, but not much. Adaire’s normally nimble fingers lost all ability when Hella kissed one very  _ particular _ spot under her jaw, a fact Hella took careful note of.

 

Adaire’s bedroom was illuminated in blue-purple light from the sign outside. It was enough light to see by as Hella navigated the small, unfamiliar space. She lay Adaire down carefully on her bed, putting her new-found knowledge to good use. Adaire squirmed, her hands clutching at Hella’s shirt, a flush spreading across her cheeks and down her chest.

 

The sign’s light made Adaire’s pale skin look unearthly. Hella ran her fingers along the lines of shadows it made, tracing patterns in the flickering light across Adaire’s skin.

 

“Oh,” said Adaire faintly, as Hella kissed a trail down her neck, “I forgot to turn the sign off.”

 

Hella blinked down at her. “Did you want to go do it now?”

 

Adaire tugged at the front of Hella’s t-shirt. “ _ Absolutely _ not.”

 

Hella laughed, pulling the shirt up and off in one smooth motion. “So stop thinking about work.”

 

Adaire ran her hands up and down Hella’s sides, her thumbs rubbing circle on Hella’s hipbones. “I’m not thinking about work.”

 

Hella rolled her hips, making Adaire gasp. Hella swallowed the sound with a kiss, trailing one hand down Adaire’s body undo her pants, teasing her through the fabric. Adaire moaned, her hands fluttering along Hella’s sides.

 

“Good,” said Hella, “I’ve always said you work too hard.”

 

Adaire shifted, putting Hella off-balance and giving herself leverage to flip their positions. Anything Hella had to say about the reversal was lost as Adaire kissed her, her hands palming Hella breasts through her bra. Hella arched up into Adaire’s touch, biting her lip to quieten a gasp. Adaire changed focus, nipping lightly at Hella’s skin as she kissed down her neck, not stopping until Hella was panting underneath her.

 

“Well,” said Adaire, grinning down at her, “You’re quite the vacation.”

 

Hella laughed, feeling lighter than she had in a long time.

 

-

 

Adaire, in the morning, was delighted to see that Hella ate food, and drank coffee, and didn’t always have to wear a leather jacket. Hella was able to get Adaire to keep the bar closed until past noon for the first time since it opened.


	3. Throndir & Red Jack

_ 15 years ago, give or take _

Red Jack was tall, and that was a problem. Not for his work as a mechanic, you understand, ask anybody around and they’ll tell you, that Red Jack, he’ll fix up whatever machine you got. Being tall helped in that regard, meant he could lean way over the engine without having to move around so much.

 

The problem with being tall arose with the arrival of Throndir, the trainee park ranger who’d been tasked to bring all the ranger vehicles in for their yearly service. Throndir was just tall enough that, if Red Jack pulled him into his arms, Throndir would have fit neatly under his chin.  _ If _ Red Jack did that, which he did not. But it was a thought that came often to his mind, and there was the problem. It was hard to keep your mind on the  _ job _ with it kept drifting like that.

 

Throndir was all crisp uniform and bright eyes, greeting Red Jack with a wide smile. After the third car, he started bringing Red Jack coffee.

 

“I feel bad for adding so much to your workload,” said Throndir.

 

Red Jack laughed. “It’s my job!”

 

Throndir rubbed the back of his neck. “I know, but it’s not very interesting-- or maybe it is? I don’t know much about cars.”

 

“I could teach you about them, if you like,” said Red Jack.

 

“That sounds great,” said Throndir, grinning. He glanced back over his shoulder to where the ranger vehicle he was picking up was parked. “Uh, I should probably be getting back to work. Maybe you can tell me sometime when I’m off the clock?”

 

“Sure,” said Red Jack.

 

He grinned back, even though it sounded like an excuse. A very kind, very gentle excuse, but an excuse nonetheless. Still. He only had a few more vehicles to do. Then it’d be a year before they saw each other again, probably. Plenty of time for him to dispel the thought of tucking Throndir underneath his chin and holding him close.

 

-

 

Driving away from the mechanic shop, Throndir looked back at it in the rearview mirror. His stomach swooped as he remembered Red Jack’s parting grin and he bit his lip.

 

Just two more vehicles. He could stand it for two more vehicles. Then he’d do something, just to test the waters. After all, Red Jack was such a friendly guy, so it was hard to tell whether or not he was flirting when he laughed at something Throndir said, or smiled at him in greeting, or when he stretched after leaning across a car engine, the muscles of his back shifting under his shirt--

 

Throndir shook himself, frowning as he turned his attention back to the road.

 

Two more vehicles to go.

 

He stopped by the Weaver diner on his way back to the ranger station to pick up more coffees. The other rangers told him he didn’t have to, but it seemed like a nice gesture to make, his first month on the job. It was well past lunch time so only a few people were there. Deputy Hadrian nodded to him as he entered and Throndir walked over to him after he’d placed his order.

 

“Another coffee run?” said Hadrian.

 

Throndir nodded. “Just dropped off one of the cars for servicing, seemed like the thing to do.”

 

“They’ve got you doing vehicle duty, huh?” said Hadrian, “I’ve been there.”

 

Throndir’s mind went to Red Jack’s parting smile, the way their hands had brushed slightly as he’d handed Jack the keys.

 

“I don’t mind,” said Throndir, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. 

 

Hadrian hummed, giving Throndir a look out of the corner of his eye. 

 

“How’s Jack doing today?” said Hadrian, taking a sip of his coffee.

 

“He’s good,” said Throndir, “I mean, not that we had long to talk, really.”

 

Hadrian hummed again. “Strange. Jack’s usually one for talking.”

 

“I guess I did leave pretty fast,” said Throndir.

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yeah,” said Throndir, “You know, had to get back to work and all. I’m trying to make a good impression.”

 

“I think the impression you make is fine as it is,” said Hadrian, “and I know Jack thinks so too.”

 

“Really?” said Throndir, just a touch too loud in the quiet diner. 

 

He bit his lip, ducking his head as he felt himself blush. He’d only been in town a short time, and he didn’t want to make a fool of himself, getting tangled up in a romance that might be only in his head. Things like that could get so complicated, especially when he was still settling in at work, getting his house unpacked, figuring out where to buy groceries. But Red Jack’s warm smile...

 

Hadrian pushed the take away tray full of Throndir’s coffee order towards him, getting Throndir’s attention.

 

“Not to tell too many tales out of school,” said Hadrian, “but if the next time you stop by the autoshop you decide to stay a little longer, I don’t think Red Jack would mind at all.”

 

Throndir’s stomach gave the same swoop it had done as he’d driven away from the autoshop - half elation, half fear. It was a dizzying combination.

 

Throndir fiddled with the edge of the take away tray. “I, um. I’m supposed to drop another ranger vehicle around tomorrow. Do you think-- um, do you know if Red Jack’s busy that day? I don’t want to bother him.”

 

Hadrian gave Throndir a small smile. “That would be something to ask him, I imagine.”

 

“Right,” said Throndir, taking a deep breath, “Right.”

 

He waved goodbye to Hadrian, heading back towards the ranger station, trying to get his mind to focus back on work. There was so much to remember, leaning the differences between policies and practice, remembering which map to use for what scenario, memorising which information to tell which school group. There was a lot for his mind to focus on. 

 

Instead, his mind caught on Red Jack and pretty much stayed there. Even as he was going over maps and forms, the image of Red Jack smiling down at him hovered on the edges of his mind, warming him. 

 

He kept forgetting to drink the coffee he'd bought for himself. After the fourth time he reheated it in the work microwave and forgot it, Throndir decided that that was enough of a sign that he should probably do something about... this whole thing.

 

Focusing on in Hadrian's words from earlier that afternoon, Throndir practised what he'd say to Red Jack on the way home that night. It was something he did when he was nervous, going over possible phrasing-- he'd done the same for his ranger interview. Unfortunately, this time hearing his own voice nervously stumbling over words in the empty space of the car was less than helpful. He had to take steadying, deep breaths for a few minutes before he could even make himself get out of the car to go into his own small apartment. 

 

He was mostly unpacked, only a few boxes of books and clothes still left to find a place. The kitchen was the first thing he'd organised, the motions of unpacking and arranging his various flours and spices soothing any work-related nerves.

 

It was the first place he headed to now, toeing off his shoes and stripping out of the jacket of his uniform to stand for a moment in front of the pantry. He needed something to cook, something involved enough to keep his hands and mind busy but not so involved that it would be disastrous if he got too distracted. Nothing too rich either-- he felt calmer than he had on the ride home, but there was still a faint flutter of nerves in the pit of his stomach. 

 

He settled on slow-cooking black beans, measuring out the beans and water (although it was an old staple, and he didn't really need to-- the methodical measuring and pouring helped, though), cutting the orange and peeling the onion, popping them both in the now-boiling water along with the beans. He stirred the pot slowly, letting the movement calm him as he leant over the pot, inhaling the fragrant steam. Throndir took a deep breath in and out, smiling to himself. It was a simple dish, but a comforting one, filling the small kitchen with the smell. 

 

He gave the beans one last stir before lowering the heat, leaving the lid of the pot slightly ajar as he set about cutting some fresh vegetables. He stirred the beans again, then went to get changed out of his stiff work clothes. By the time he returned the beans were done. He spooned the bean mixture onto the tortilla, wondering absent-mindedly if this meal was something that Red Jack would like. 

 

Maybe he'd ask Red Jack over for dinner. Or was that too forward? Red Jack radiated a warm friendliness that could mean any number of things, and really, Throndir had only met him a handful of times. It was impossible to say whether there really was intent in the way Throndir wanted there to be behind a beaming smile, or the brush of a hand, or whether it was just Throndir's extremely hopeful imaginings. 

 

He could ask Red Jack for coffee… but he didn't actually know if Red Jack drank the coffee he'd brought him. Red Jack could just as easily have accepted it out of politeness and thrown it away as soon as Throndir had high-tailed it out of there. 

 

And  _ then  _ there was the issue of being on duty while asking someone out. He could have invented an issue with his own car, brought it around on his day off, but Red Jack-- undoubtedly a talented mechanic-- would surely see through his ruse, and being called out on a frankly embarrassing lie wasn't the ideal start to a relationship. 

 

Although, Throndir sternly reminded himself, if he was having this much trouble even asking Red Jack in a single date,  _ relationship  _ might be getting little far ahead of himself.

 

Throndir sighed around a mouthful of food. 

 

He tried to put Red Jack, and the tangle of emotions he'd brought with him, out of his mind as he puttered around his apartment, washing the dishes, getting ready for bed. 

 

It would have been a lie to say that he was in any way successful. 

 

The next day, he stopped in at the Weaver diner again on the way to pick up the ranger vehicle. He frowned up at the sign for a moment before he got out-- he hadn't really been paying attention, too nervous about seeing Red Jack again, and he'd driven into the small parking lot on autopilot. 

 

Hadrian was there again, chatting with a pretty woman in a purple headscarf, their hands casually twined together on the countertop. She nodded to Throndir as she saw him, and Hadrian turned, smiling when as he saw him. 

 

Throndir went up to greet them after he'd put in his order. 

 

“Another coffee run?” said Hadrian. 

 

“It's for, um, for Red Jack actually,” said Throndir, trying to ignore the heat rushing to his face, “I was going to drop in another vehicle just now and I guess I've worked myself into kind of a routine about it.”

 

“That sounds like a familiar routine,” said the woman, raising an eyebrow at Hadrian. 

 

“I don't know what you mean,” said Hadrian, taking a sip of coffee, “Throndir, this is my wife Rosana.”

 

“Ah,” said Rosana, “the new park ranger.”

 

“What gave it away?” said Throndir, smiling as he gestured to his uniform. 

 

Rosana laughed. “So, you're taking a coffee to Red Jack again, huh?”

 

“Yes,” said Throndir, trying for casual, “I hope he, you know, likes coffee.”

 

Rosana set her cup down gently. “It's been my experience that it doesn't matter so much whether you like coffee, as long as you like the person bringing it.”

 

Hadrian smiled down at his own cup, his thumb rubbing along Rosana's knuckles. 

 

“So you, um, don't know if he likes coffee?” asked Throndir.

 

“Maybe next time, you should ask him to come with you when you order it,” said Hadrian gently.

 

“You're one to talk,” said Rosana, her tone teasing as she smiled at him. 

 

“I asked you out eventually!”

 

“First of all, I asked  _ you  _ out,” said Rosana. 

 

“Well--” began Hadrian. 

 

“After weeks of you  _ just dropping by _ the school,” said Rosana. She looked back at Throndir. “Don't listen to Hadrian, if you like Red Jack, you should be direct about it.”

 

“Um, I--” said Throndir hesitantly, edging towards where his coffee order was waiting for him. “I’m not sure-- I mean, he seems very busy.”

 

“Not too busy for you,” said Rosana, smiling at Hadrian. “You make time, when you like someone.”

 

Hadrian hummed in agreement, smiling at Rosana. Throndir left, but he was pretty sure they didn't notice. 

 

Throndir was halfway down the road when he realised they never really answered his question. He hoped Red Jack  _ did  _ like coffee. 

 

Maybe he  _ could  _ ask Red Jack to meet him for coffee next time. Or at a bar, there was one just outside of town, the Twinbrooke, that seemed like a fun place. Even if they just went as friends, that could be fun. Just a nice, casual, fun night between friends.

 

Throndir swallowed hard as the autoshop came into view, slowing down to crawl as he pulled into park. 

 

Red Jack looked up as he entered, a wide grin on his sunburnt face. “Throndir!”

 

Throndir’s stomach fluttered at his expression. He didn't think anyone has ever seemed as happy to see him in his life as Red Jack did. 

 

He held out the takeaway coffee cup awkwardly as he walked towards Red Jack. 

 

“I thought you might like another trade.”

 

Red Jack laughed, taking the cup and turning slightly to set it on the roof of the car he was working on, the movement of it pulling the thin material of his t-shirt across his broad shoulders. He wiped his hands on a rag before tucking it back in his pocket, smiling wide at Throndir as he took a sip of the coffee. His fingers left streaks of oil along the side of the paper cup.

 

Throndir quickly looked down at his own coffee cup. He took a nervous sip, wincing as he burnt his tongue.

 

“You know,” said Red Jack, “the ranger station is paying for the vehicles. You don’t need to keep bringing in coffee as trade.”

 

“Oh I, um,” Throndir fiddled with the cup in his hands, “I suppose I just wanted to do something nice.”

 

Throndir made a face at himself.

 

Red Jack laughed. “I’m certainly not complaining! I have a great love for the Weaver diner. Used to work there for a time when I was first in town.”

 

“Oh, good,” said Throndir, “I was a little worried that you didn’t like coffee, and I--”  _ was wondering if you wanted to come get some coffee with me sometime _ “I, um--”  _ wanted to know if you maybe wanted to get a drink after work _ “uh--”  _ oh my god _ “I didn’t want to keep getting you something you didn’t like.”

 

Red Jack gave him an odd look. “Well, no need to worry.”

 

He held out some papers to Throndir and Throndir reached for them without even fully realising he was moving. There was a moment, as there had been the day before, where Throndir could have sworn he felt Red Jack’s fingers brush deliberately against his.

 

“Thanks, um--” Throndir cleared his throat, “so do you get down to the Weaver diner much these days? Now that you’re not working there.”

 

Red Jack leant back against the side of the car. “Not as much as I’d like, but I do from time to time.”

 

“It’s a nice place,” said Throndir.

 

Red Jack smiled. “Yes, it is.”

 

“Um,” said Throndir, “um, say, do you--”

 

He looked down at the papers for a moment. They were the vehicle forms, stamped with the ranger logo. The same logo that was embroidered onto his uniform, because he was  _ on duty _ . Asking people on dates while in uniform wasn’t something they covered in his orientation meeting but it was almost certainly against some kind of rule. Throndir swallowed hard.

 

“Do I what?” said Red Jack.

 

“Do you, uh,” Throndir tried to think of something, any other way to finish his sentence, “know of any other places for coffee? You know, in case I wanted to bring you a little more variety.”

 

Red Jack laughed. “Weaver diner coffee is just fine for me.” He paused, looking down at the papers in Throndir’s hand. “I’d better go get your keys.”

 

“Yeah,” said Throndir, “I guess you’d better.”

 

_ Next time _ , thought Throndir,  _ next time I stop by  _ after  _ my shift _ .

 

-

 

There were two take away paper coffee cups sitting on Red Jack’s desk. They were empty, and distracting, but he couldn’t bring himself to tip them over the edge into the trash basket just yet. Red Jack looked at them, tapping his pen on the pages of his account book, thinking of nothing in particular. 

 

It wasn’t as though they reminded him of any one specific thing. It was more that when he looked at them, they gave him the impression of Throndir’s shy smile. It was very kind of Throndir to bring him coffee. Red Jack was friends with many people, and was liked by many more, but it was not often that someone brought him coffee. Throndir might have been the first, in point of fact.

 

Letting out a long breath, Red Jack dropped his pen on the pages of the account book and snapped it shut. He wasn’t going to make any progress on this side of things today. He’d go out and finish working on Rosette’s van. He’d always found it easier to unknot a problem with his mind when he was working on something with his hands.

 

“Hey.”

 

Red Jack turned to see Throndir. It took him a moment to recognise him, hair loose around his face and bright blue t-shirt, the opposite of his usual green-grey work uniform.

 

Red Jack smiled. “Throndir! I'm almost done with this last car. Should be ready for pick up tomorrow.”

 

Throndir smiled at him shyly. “Yeah, I'm-- Um, I was wondering if you had time to run over something in the ranger vehicles with me?”

 

“You're not on the clock?”

 

Throndir flushed faintly. “Not technically, but they-- the other park rangers, I mean said that it's probably a good idea to know how it all works. Don't want to get stranded my first month on the job.”

 

Red Jack laughed, wiping his hands on the cloth he had draped over his shoulder. “This way.”

 

Throndir followed Red Jack to where the ranger vehicle was parked. Red Jack popped the hood, motioning for Throndir to lean over it with him. This was a mistake. The motion brought Throndir right next to Red Jack, shoulders just brushing. Red Jack's fingers itched to pull Throndir just that little bit closer. 

 

Red Jack took a breath in through his nose. “So. Where did you want to start?”

 

“Oh! Well, I already know the basics, like, this is the battery,” said Throndir, leaning over to point out something that was most certainly not the battery.

 

“Well to start with,” said Red Jack, taking Throndir’s hand and moving it to the other side of the car to touch the battery, “ _ this _ is the battery.”

 

Throndir blushed, cheeks flushing pink. “Oh. Well,  _ now _ I know the basics I guess.”

 

Red Jack laughed. Throndir tilted his head back to look at him, smiling. Standing this close, Red Jack could see the flecks of green in Throndir’s eyes. Red Jack felt Throndir lean slightly against him, not by much, just a light increase in pressure against his side in a way that felt purposeful. He looked down at Throndir, and Throndir looked back. His hand felt warm, where Red Jack was holding it over the battery. 

 

Slowly, giving Throndir plenty of time to pull away, Red Jack slotted their fingers together. Throndir bit his lip, again moving incrementally closer.

 

Keeping his movements just as slow and sure, Red Jack leant down, pressing his lips to Throndir’s. Throndir gasped, giving Red Jack an opportunity to deepen the kiss. Throndir shifted, turning so the he could cradle the back of Red Jack’s head gently. His other hand was still in Red Jack’s, and Red Jack had no intention of letting go.

 

Red Jack slipped his free hand around Throndir’s waist, pulling them flush against one another, running his hand up and down Throndir’s back Throndir’s legs were pinned between Red Jack and the car but he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, his free hand gripping the fabric of Red Jack’s top. Throndir sighed, lightly squeezing Red Jack’s hand.

 

Throndir pulled back slightly. “I, um, I suppose I should tell you. The other park rangers didn’t tell me to come here.” He rested his hand on the back of Red Jack’s neck, fiddling with Jack’s collar. “I, um, I was going to wait until after all the ranger vehicles done to make a move but, um…”

 

Throndir trailed off, his cheeks flushing a deep pink. Red Jack laughed.

 

“Then I have a confession of my own,” said Red Jack. “I have been thinking of this since we met.”

 

Throndir beamed. “Oh! That’s, um, that’s good.”

 

“Yes,” said Red Jack, tucking a strand of hair behind Throndir’s ear. “It’s good.”

 

He leant down to kiss Throndir again, and this time Throndir met him halfway. Red Jack pushed Throndir back against the car again and Throndir stumbled, Red Jack’s arm around his waist keeping him from tripping.

 

“Do you have, um, somewhere more, you know,” said Throndir.

 

Red Jack nodded, pulling Throndir forward by their joined hands. His office was a small, walled-off section of the garage, but it would do. Inside, there was a battered desk and table, and a shelf that he kept old account books and car manuals. It wasn’t very glamorous, or tidy, but it was private.

 

Throndir pushed the door shut behind them, biting his lip as he looked up at Red Jack. Red Jack squeezed his hand again before letting go to wrap both of his arms around Throndir, pulling him close. Throndir huffed a laugh, leaning up to kiss Red Jack again, his hands slipping underneath Red Jack’s shirt.

 

Red Jack turned them as they kissed, walking Throndir backwards until they came to his desk. Without prompting, Throndir hopped up on it, pulling at Red Jack’s shirt to continue their kiss. Red Jack laughed, his hands finding their way under Throndir’s t-shirt and skimming along his bare skin. Throndir gasped, pulling at Red Jack’s shirt again.

 

Red Jack nudged Throndir’s legs apart to stand between them, tilting Throndir back until he was lying on the desk. Red Jack leant forward, grinding their hips together, and Throndir bucked underneath him, gasping as he broke off the kiss.

 

“You should really--  _ oh _ \-- you should really get some kind of couch for in here,” said Throndir.

 

Red Jack laughed, leaning back enough to ruck up Throndir’s shirt, running his hands over Throndir’s soft stomach. Throndir arched into his touch.

 

“Maybe I will,” said Red Jack as he kissed up Throndir’s neck, “if you keep coming around.”

  
  


_ Present day: _

Throndir was in a very good mood. The sky was bright, he had hot coffee and good pastries, and it was ranger vehicle service day, which meant he got to see his husband in the middle of the day as well as at both ends of it. He ruffled Kodiak’s fur and Kodiak boofed softly.

 

“You said it buddy,” said Throndir, and laughed.

 

Red Jack’s autoshop was bustling with activity when Throndir arrived, various relatives of Red Jack’s working on cars, the kids running here and there, helping in-between bursts of play. Throndir waved hello to them, heading the Red Jack’s office in the corner. The door was open, but he knocked on the doorframe all the same.

 

Red Jack smiled as he looked up. “You’re early.”

 

“Well, getting the vehicles serviced is a serious business,” said Throndir, shutting the door behind him, “I wanted to make sure everything with them is all settled.”

 

Kodiak followed him in, padding to the soft dog bed in the corner, turning around a few times before settling. Red Jack stood up, leaning over the desk to reach for the coffee as Throndir handed it to him. Instead, Throndir set both coffees and the pastries on the table, twining their fingers together instead. Red Jack laughed, leaning over further to kiss him.

 

“Do you have long?” said Red Jack.

 

“We have a group of kids coming in after lunch,” said Throndir, “Mitta said she’d let me know when they got in. We probably enough time to go over the important points of the vehicles.”

 

Red Jack huffed a laugh. “Well, in that case.”

 

He leant back to walk around the desk, keeping ahold of Throndir’s hand as he did so and pulling Throndir down to sit beside him on the low, grey couch that ran along one side of his office. The fabric of it felt worn and familiar under Throndir’s hands. It had been an engagement gift they’d bought for themselves, a tangible version of an inside joke.

 

Red Jack began undoing the buttons of Throndir’s shirt, running his hands over the soft t-shirt Throndir had been wearing underneath that before he stripped that off Throndir as well. Throndir sighed, eyes fluttering closed as Red Jack kissed down his neck.

 

Throndir thought that the forest seemed peaceful, but it never seemed quite a peaceful as this tiny messy room, the distant sounds of their kids yelling to each other as they worked on vehicles, Red Jack’s hands steady on his waist as he pulled Throndir up into his lap. Throndir slipped his hands under Red Jack shirt, rucking up the fabric as he ran his hands up Red Jack’s stomach to his chest.

 

Red Jack stretched, peeling his own t-shirt off and dropping on the floor to join Throndir’s. Throndir rubbed his hands along Red Jack’s broad shoulders for a moment before pushing at them lightly. Red Jack followed the movement, shifting so that he was lying down. Throndir kissed a trail up Red Jack’s chest to his throat, huffing a laugh as Red Jack slipped his hands in the back pockets of Throndir’s pants, squeezing him through the fabric. Red Jack laughed too, the sound of it mostly muffled by Throndir’s kiss.

 

Red Jack flexed his hands, and Throndir shivered and then gasped as Red Jack ground them together. Red Jack made a pleased humming noise at the back of his throat, pressing light kisses to Throndir’s cheeks, his forehead, before his mouth came back to Throndir’s lips, kissing him deeply.

 

Throndir wriggled a hand in between their bodies, fumbling with the zipper. Red Jack groaned, arching up towards his hand and-

 

A burst of static sounded from Throndir’s radio. He and Red Jack both stilled, looking towards the small radio where it lay next to the coffees on Red Jack’s desk.

 

Throndir tapped his fingers on Red Jack’s shoulders. “Maybe it was just a--”

 

Another burst of static. “Throndir?” said Mitta, her voice grainy though the radio channel, “You there?”

 

Throndir sighed, stretching to reach the radio without getting off Red Jack entirely. Red Jack ran his hands along Throndir’s sides, an amused smile on his face.

 

“Yeah,” said Throndir, “Yeah I’m here, what’s up?”

 

“The kids are here,” said Mitta, “you said to let you know if you weren’t back.”

 

“You could have just texted.”

 

“I did,” said Mitta, annoyance coming through the static, “Maybe if you actually checked your phone I wouldn’t have to resort to emergency methods.”

 

Throndir rummaged around on the floor for his phone, pulling it out of the jacket pocket. “You didn’t--”  _ 2 missed calls: mitta, 5 unread messages _ “--oh. Uh, sorry.”

 

There was a rush of static as Mitta huffed a laugh. “It’s fine, I’ll stall them until you get here.”

 

“I’m leaving right now,” said Throndir.

 

Mitta laughed. “Okay. See you soon.”

 

Throndir waited until he heard the click from her end before he clicked the radio off. He looked down at Red Jack and made an apologetic face.

 

Red Jack sighed, drumming his fingers on Throndir’s sides. “I suppose we’ll have to finish this later.”

 

Throndir allowed himself one last, lingering kiss. He leant his forehead against Red Jack’s. “I guess we will.”

 

There was a hesitant knock at the door, followed by the slight rattle of the door handle. Throndir suddenly felt very glad of his foresight to lock it. Kodiak sat up, ears twitching.

 

“Um, hello?” said a nervous-sounding Lem, “is anyone in there?”

 

Red Jack laughed. “I’ll be right out.” More quietly to Throndir, he added, “it looks as though we both have days to get back to.”

 

Throndir picked up his shirt, hurriedly pulling it on and pulling his ranger jacket over the top of it. He smoothed his hands over his hair, patting his pockets to check for wallet-keys-phone. When he looked up, Red Jack was still leaning back on the couch, watching him with a soft smile on his face.

 

Throndir stepped closer, leaning down to press a quick kiss to Red Jack’s cheek. Red Jack reached up, tangling their hands together, squeezing gently. He felt Red Jack smile under his lips.

 

“See you at home later,” said Red Jack.

 

They’d been married for years and lived together for even longer, but Throndir’s heart still skipped a beat at that question.  _ Home _ .

 

He smiled. “Absolutely.”

 

Throndir passed Lem on his way out to his car, pausing to say hello. He looked curiously at Lem’s car, which didn’t look like it was in obvious need of repair.

 

Lem blushed faintly, gesturing at his car behind him. "I think I did something to the horn, it's gone weird." 

 

Throndir hummed, giving Lem a look out of the corner of his eye. "I heard it was Fero who did something to the horn."

 

Lem make a choking sound. Throndir laughed, patting Lem on the shoulder. His phone vibrated again and he let out a breath. Back to work.

 

It wasn’t until he actually  _ got _ all the way to work that he realised he was wearing the wrong t-shirt, Red Jack’s much larger t-shirt hanging loosely out of the bottom of his jacket.

 

_ throndear: I think I took your shirt!!! sorry _

_ rj: what’s mine is yours _

 

Throndir bit his lip, smiling down at his phone, running a nail along the edge of the cover. He could feel the loose fabric bunching up under his jacket in a way that should have been annoying but instead just reminded him of the warmth of Red Jack’s body. It wasn’t the first time he’d done this, although usually he did it on purpose, sneaking Red Jack’s big, soft flannel shirts out of his side of the wardrobe and folding the cuffs of the sleeves back.

 

Red Jack couldn’t really do the same to him, or, he  _ could _ , but then tended to be  _ tight _ on him. If he had Red Jack’s shirt, then Red Jack would have  _ had _ to have worn his shirt today. Throndir wasn’t a small man, but he was smaller than Red Jack. Throndir broke off the thought, blushing hotly as he looked down at the papers on his desk.

 

Kodiak woofed quietly, resting his head on Throndir’s leg, and Throndir sighed.

 

“I know, buddy. Back to work.”

 

-

 

The smell of cooking hit Throndir when he opened the door. He could hear Red Jack humming to himself in the kitchen and, behind that, the faint noises of the kids playing outside. The peaceful noises that let him know he was home.

 

Kodiak followed him as he set his things down in the entryway, leaving his ranger jacket on the hook by the door. Red Jack’s jacket was already there, hanging next to the row of children’s jackets. Throndir touched the sleeve of Red Jack’s jacket, smiling faintly to himself.

 

Red Jack was standing at the stove, stirring a big pot of black beans, steamy and fragrant. As Throndir had thought, Red Jack was indeed wearing his much smaller shirt, the fabric of it pulled tight across his shoulders and upper arms. Throndir inhaled sharply at the sight.

 

Red Jack turned, smiling as he saw Throndir. He gestured to the shirt.

 

“I had to make do,” said Red Jack laughing, “I hope you don’t mind me stretching it out a little.”

 

“Not at all,” said Throndir, feeling a little breathless. “What’s mine is yours, too.”

 

Red Jack laughed. The pot bubbled and Red Jack turned to continue stirring it, clouds of steam framing his face.

 

Throndir stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Red Jack from behind and going up on tiptoes to hook his chin over Red Jack’s shoulder, kissing him on the cheek. Red Jack laughed again, and Throndir could feel the vibration of it through his chest.

 

He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of Red Jack’s body seep into his. Red Jack put a hand up to clumsily card his fingers through Throndir’s hair. Throndir made a pleased noise, pressing a kiss to Red Jack’s neck.

 

“Long day?” said Red Jack.

 

Throndir hummed. “Sort of. Some parts of it were too fast.”

 

Red Jack chuckled. “Well, you’re home now. We have all the time in the world.”

 

Throndir hummed again, kissing a trail up Red Jack's neck, across his jawline. Red Jack tilted his face towards him, hand still loosely grasping the wooden spoon, to kiss Throndir softly. Throndir sighed into the kiss, feeling the warmth of Red Jack spread through him.

 

Red Jack let go of the spoon to turn his body towards Throndir and Throndir followed his movements, like the point of a compass being pulled north. Red Jack leant back on the counter, smiling as Throndir pressed him back against it as they kissed, lazy and slow, the steam of the black beans wafting through the warm kitchen. 

 

Throndir wriggled his hands under Red Jack's tight t-shirt, rucking it up so he could touch more of Red Jack's skin. Red Jack made a pleased noise in response, deep in the back of his throat, pulling Throndir closer to him. Their kisses began to take on more heat, more urgency. Red Jack's hands slipped under Throndir's shirt, his calluses making Throndir gasp and roll his hips against Red Jack as they slid over his now-sensitive skin. 

 

Red Jack chuckled. “We should slow down or the beans’ll burn.”

 

“So we'll get take out,” mumbled Throndir against Red Jack's neck. 

 

Outside the window, Throndir could see the sun had almost finished setting. Time for the kids to come inside for dinner, then homework, then bedtime rituals of bathing and storytelling, and then, finally, bed for him and Red Jack as well. The warm privacy of their bedroom seemed an aeon away.

 

“Come on, love,” said Red Jack.

 

Throndir huffed a breath, pressing a kiss to the spot under Red Jack's jaw. Red Jack's hands rested comfortably on his hips, the warmth of them remaining even as Red Jack lifted a hand to stir the beans again. 

 

“I'll go call the kids in for dinner?” said Throndir, still leaning into Red Jack. 

 

Red Jack pressed a kiss to the top of Throndir's head. “I'll have it all up by the time you herd them in here.”

 

Throndir laughed. He kissed Red Jack one last time before he pulled away, heading to the door that led to the back porch. 

 

He leant against the railing for a moment in the cool night air, watching the kids scramble around their tree house, yelling to each other as they played. Behind him, he could hear the gentle sound of Red Jack bustling around in the kitchen, setting out plates.  _ Home.  _

 

The warm privacy of their room wasn't so far away.


	4. Ephrim & Maelgwyn

_ Two Months Ago: _

Ephrim straightened his uniform again, nodding to himself in the mirror. Today was going to be a big day.

 

Well, a comparably big day for the small size of the town. He’d put his hand up to work the weekend shift, since they needed an extra person at the opening of Rosemerrow Park and no one else seemed keen. Ephrim wasn’t that keen on attending a park opening either, especially on his second week in town, but he  _ was _ keen on impressing Sheriff Hadrian, whose request for volunteers had felt like a test.

 

Hadrian had given him a short nod, and they’d gone to the park the day before so Ephrim could see “the lay of the land.” Ephrim had nodded politely to the Mayor’s representatives, trying to seem interested as they talked about stage placement and traffic flow. On the ride back to the station, Ephrim asked as many questions he could think of.

 

“We’re not expecting any trouble,” said Hadrian, “it’s a lot of standing around, maybe helping a lost kid or two.”

 

“Oh,” said Ephrim.

 

“But I appreciate your enthusiasm,” said Hadrian, “enthusiasm for the town and the community is a good quality to have in a deputy.”

 

There were already a few people there when Ephrim arrived. Hadrian was already there, of course, chatting amiably with one of the mayor's assistants (Aubrey? Or was it Audrey?). 

 

Ephrim tried to take a calming breath without being too obvious about it as he approached. 

 

“Morning Sheriff Hadrian.”

 

Hadrian smiled. “Morning Deputy Ephrim. Ready for your first encounter with the public at large?”

 

“Absolutely,” said Ephrim firmly, trying to project confidence.

 

“Well,” said Aubrey (Audrey?), “it seems like you can handle things from here. I have some calls to make, getting the press in line.”

 

“Ah,” said Hadrian knowingly. 

 

“The press?” said Ephrim, after she'd walked away. 

 

“The local high school’s sending a few of their kids to cover things,” said Hadrian, “one of Samot's ideas. And someone from the local paper’ll probably stop by, try and get their ten minutes with the mayor.”

 

“Is that-- I mean, should I stop them if I see them coming?” 

 

Hadrian smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Only if they're taking too long. I'm sure Samot’ll hustle them all out of there if they need to leave.”

 

“Them all?”

 

Hadrian hummed. “Their son's visiting for the weekend. He usually comes down from Marielda for things like this. You know, visit his dads, see old friends, shake hands with the public.”

 

“Oh,” said Ephrim awkwardly, “that's… nice?”

 

Hadrian hummed again, watching as a van drove into the park, mounting the curb as it came to a stop. 

 

Hadrian sighed. “That'll be Hedy, I'd better go help her park. You check how they're going with the stage.”

 

The rest of the set up went smoothly, people trickling in as the day went on. Ephrim saw what he thought was one of the high school students, pen and paper in hand (she didn't seem to be that dedicated to reporting the news of the day-- Ephrim could have sworn he saw another girl that looked  _ just  _ like her ten minutes later, leaning back against one of the trees, chatting with another girl). 

 

Despite Hadrian's assurances that everything was fine, Ephrim kept a watchful eye out for reporters. No distractions. If this  _ were _ a test, it was one he was determined to pass with a perfect score.

 

\--

 

Maelgwyn suppressed a sigh as he parked, running a hand through his hair. Another photo-op day with his dads, because coming to visit for a family lunch could never  _ just  _ be a family lunch. He took a deep breath in, holding it for a moment before he let it out. It wouldn’t be a good start to be annoyed at them right off the bat. There would plenty of time for that after his dad’s speech.

 

It was a fairly standard sort of this: show up, smile, tell people how happy you were to be there, go stand next to his father and try not to be too obvious in prodding him along to the main event (although his dad, as usual, had that covered, managing to hustle his father onto the stage only five minutes later than he should have been on).

 

Hadrian gave him a look as he went to step onstage next to his dad, the same be-careful-don’t-cause-trouble look he’d been giving Maelgwyn since he was twelve. Tilting his face so only Hadrian could see, Maelgwyn rolled his eyes. Hadrian’s mouth remained in a stern line, but his eyes crinkled as he suppressed a smile. Maelgwyn grinned, waving to the small crowd as he stepped into place next to his dad.

 

He put his hands behind his back as he stood on stage, an old habit he’d developed so people couldn’t see him fidgeting if a speech dragged on. He looked around the crowd, trying not to make his distraction too obvious. There was Hadrian off to the side, quietly chastising some teens for being rowdy, there was Hedy around the back, half-leaning out of her van to hear the speech, there was Sige, lugging some of the gear for the afternoon’s entertainment towards the back of the stage, and there was-- huh. There was a new face, in a freshly pressed uniform.

 

The man was looking up at the stage, concentration writ large on his face as his leaned around the person in front of him, trying to get a better view of the stage. A small gust of wind ruffled the man’s hair and he brushed it away from his face. 

 

Maelgwyn tracked the movement, making a mental note to find the man later. Maybe his visit home wouldn’t be all family obligations and well-worn arguments after all.

 

\--

 

Ephrim stood towards the side of the crowd as the mayor made his speech, welcoming people to their newest park. From his position he could see the shining blond hair of the mayor's husband standing behind him, and occasionally he could catch glimpses of another man standing on the other side of Samot, probably their son. He couldn’t see much of him-- just a flash of a black leather sleeve and golden hair.

 

After the speech, people crowded around the stage steps. Ephrim took a step forward but Hadrian was already ahead of him, waving him off. Ephrim watched Hadrian work for a moment, as he charmed old ladies into letting the mayor go after only a few photos with their grandchildren. Samothes seemed relatively at ease, smiling as Samot spoke to someone.

 

Since Hadrian seemed to have that side of things covered, Ephrim looked around for something else to do. There was a secondary set of steps on the opposite side of the stage. Probably a good idea to cover that side to stop anyone messing around on stage before the entertainment act got ready. 

 

It was a good idea, too-- he'd only been standing there a few minutes when a man bumped into him, trying to get on stage. Ephrim put a hand on the man's chest, tilting his head up slightly to look him in the eye. The man grinned and Ephrim immediately withdrew his hand and put it in his pocket, feeling his face heat up. 

 

“Sorry, official personnel only.”

 

The man laughed, bright and charming. “Didn't realise I wasn't  _ official  _ enough.”

 

Ephrim fought the urge to roll his eyes. This must be the reporter from the local paper. Handsome or not, Ephrim wasn't going to be a pushover today. Today was a by-the-book, strong face of the law type of day.

 

“Do you have a pass?”

 

The man blinked. “I-- no? Are you being serious right now?”

 

Ephrim tried to think of what Hadrian would say. “Those are the rules. Sir.”

 

“Far be it from me to make you go against  _ the rules,”  _ said the man _ ,  _ “but I was just on stage, and I think my sunglasses fell out of my pocket up there.”

 

“Well, if you were just on stage then you'll have a pass,” said Ephrim. 

 

“ _ Well,”  _ said the man, “if I had a pass I'd show it to you.”

 

“So you don't have a pass?”

 

“Look, Officer whatever--”

 

“It's deputy, actually,” said Ephrim. 

 

“Okay Deputy Actually--”

 

“Ephrim,” snapped Ephrim, aware that he was dangerously close to losing his cool, which was almost certainly  _ not _ what Hadrian would do. 

 

The man held up his hands. “ _ Sorry,  _ Deputy Ephrim, but listen, I just need to go up there for five seconds. Surely the rules can be bent for just this one tiny thing?”

 

Normally, Ephrim would have. This guy didn't seem dangerous, and if he did rush at the mayor and yell some outrageous question at him, Hadrian was right there. But on the other hand, this guy was on his nerves, grinning down at him. 

 

“Sorry sir, only if you have a pass.”

 

“Now Deputy, if I had a pass I'd give it to you, I  _ swear.  _ You can even search me for it if you want, but I just don't have one.”

 

The man spread his arms wide, pulling his fine red shirt taut against his chest. The heat in Ephrim's cheeks flared again and he made a concerted effort to keep looking at the man's face.

 

The man stepped closer to him, lowering his voice. “Now, surely, just between you and me, you can concede that the ‘no checking the stage for lost sunglasses without a pass' rule is a little much.”

 

The man wasn’t that close to him, not really, only just barely in Ephrim’s personal space, but Ephrim could swear he felt the heat radiating off the man’s body. 

 

Ephrim took a deep breath in through his nose. “I'm not at liberty to comment on official town business.”

 

There was a pause, and then the man huffed a laugh, stepping half a pace back and running a hand through his hair, pushing it off his face. The motion pulled at his shirt again. 

 

“Well, can't blame a guy for trying,” said the man. “I suppose I should commend your dedication to civic duty.”

 

“That seems a little insulting when you say it,” said Ephrim.

 

The man laughed, grinning down at Ephrim. His smile seemed to have lost the sarcastic edge it held before, its warmth more genuine. 

 

“Not at all,” said the man.

 

Ephrim smiled back.

 

“I’d never say something insulting to someone with such a pretty face,” continued the man.

 

This time, Ephrim didn’t resist the urge to roll his eyes. “Sir, I am on duty.”

 

“Well, I figured that,” said the man, “although-- are you new? I thought I knew everyone in the department.”

 

Ephrim hesitated for a moment. “This is my second week here.”

 

The man nodded. “That does explain it. How’re you finding it?”

 

“Oh, I can’t comment on--”

 

The man waved a hand. “I’m not asking on the official record. This is just conversation. You’re still allowed to have a  _ conversation _ while you’re on duty, surely?”

 

Ephrim glanced over to where Hadrian was, still standing with the mayor. Hadrian caught his eye, raising his eyebrows at Ephrim. Ephrim hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt.

 

“It’s been… interesting,” said Ephrim.

 

The man laughed, loud and bright. “Interesting? In this place?”

 

“Well, I haven’t been a deputy before,” said Ephrim, “and I only just moved here. There’s a lot to remember, it keeps things interesting.”

 

The man hummed, smiling. “I think you’ll have to take me around. Maybe you can show me the  _ interesting _ spots.”

 

“Maybe I will,” said Ephrim, letting a small smile cross his face, “as long as they can stay off the official record.”

 

The man huffed a laugh, leaning a little further into Ephrim’s space, but the action didn’t seem as irritating as it had before. From the look of the man’s smile, it looked like Ephrim’s time in town was about to get even more interesting than it had been before. Ephrim was okay with that.

 

Ephrim didn’t notice Hadrian approach until he was right next to them.

 

“Maelgwyn,” said Hadrian, giving an official nod.

 

Ephrim almost looked back at man he’d been speaking to, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Surely, Hadrian couldn’t mean the man he’d been talking to. Surely not.

 

“Sheriff,” said the man, Maelgwyn, “good to see you’re as committed as ever to protecting my fathers.”

 

“As good as it is to see you here to support them,” said Hadrian.

 

Maelgwyn huffed a laugh. “I suppose that’s your way of telling me to move along?”

 

“It’s not my place to tell law abiding citizens how to move around in the world,” said Hadrian, “but I think the your fathers are getting ready to leave, if you were wanting to go with them.”

 

“Ah,” said Maelgwyn. He looked over Ephrim’s head, to where the mayor and his husband stood. “I’d better go.” He paused, looking back at Ephrim. “I’ll talk to you later about seeing those interesting spots together.”

 

Ephrim could feel Hadrian’s eyes on him, feeling his cheeks heat up. “Yeah, that’d be-- sure.”

 

Ephrim felt tense the rest of the afternoon, but Hadrian made no mention of it as he took Ephrim around to speak to the food vendors, the council staff, and what felt like half the town’s population. Ephrim tried to focus on remembering people’s names rather than Maelgwyn’s sharp grin. He was only moderately successful.

 

The ride back to the station was quiet. Hadrian was focused on the road in front of them, driving slowly as they passed by people heading home after their day in the park. Ephrim tapped his toes inside his boots as they stopped a traffic light. 

 

“So,” said Hadrian. “Mayor’s son seemed to like you.”

 

Ephrim groaned. “I didn’t know it was him when I was-- I mean, I thought he was the reporter you told me about! He didn’t introduce himself!”

 

“I suppose he’s used to people knowing who he is,” said Hadrian.

 

“Well, I know  _ now _ ,” said Ephrim.

 

“And you’ll be knowing him better in the future,” said Hadrian.

 

Ephrim frowned, turning in his seat to look at Hadrian. The lights turned green. Hadrian’s eyes flicked to Ephrim before he began driving.

 

“Interesting spots?”

 

Ephrim put his face in his hands. “I don’t know what happened.”

 

“I’m sure you have a little time to figure it out before he calls you,” said Hadrian.

 

“He doesn’t even have my number,” said Ephrim.

 

Hadrian waved a hand. “But you forget: he’s the mayor’s son. He asks the mayor-- or, more likely, Samot-- and he asks me, and then he has your number.”

 

“Oh  _ no _ ,” said Ephrim.

 

Hadrian frowned, glancing at Ephrim again. 

 

“Deputy,” said Hadrian seriously, “If you’d rather he not call--”

 

“It’s not that!” said Ephrim quickly. “I just… this is my second week. I wanted to make a good impression today on-- on the town, and then…  _ this _ .”

 

“No one thinks any less of you for a small amount of flirting on the job,” said Hadrian, “least of all me.”

 

“Oh,” said Ephrim, looking down at his hands where they were folded in his lap, his red finger nails at odds with the dark green of his pants.

 

“I’m sure if my wife were here she’d tell you it could even be good for you,” continued Hadrian. “That’s how we met, after all.”

 

“Oh,” said Ephrim, “I think it’s a little early for me to be thinking about marriage.”

 

Hadrian pressed his lips together, doing a poor job to suppress a smile. “Didn’t say you were.”

 

Ephrim put his face in his hands again, mostly to hide his blush.

  
  


_ Present day: _

Ephrim watching the blinking red light on his phone next to the caller ID screen, his hand hovering over the receiver. He put his hand to it, then withdrew it, biting his lip. He reached out again, fingers just touching the phone as the call stopped. He let out a long breath, waited a moment, then picked up the phone to listen to the message.

 

“Hey, Ephrim, it’s me,” said Maelgwyn, his voice smooth even through the static of the cheap work phone receiver, “guess I missed you again. I’m in town today, so if you’ve got time on your break I can swing by. Let me know. You have my number.”

 

Ephrim did have his number. He’d had it for weeks, although having it and using it were proving to be two different things entirely. They’d texted, of course, Ephrim wasn’t going to be  _ rude _ , and it had been… good. He ducked his head, biting his lip to try and suppress a smile. It had been very good, going back and forth late at night in his only-a-quarter-of-the-way-unpacked apartment, hearing about old town gossip and new politics.

 

But actually talking to Maelgwyn again face-to-face, let alone having Maelgwyn standing in front of him, leaning over him a little with  _ that _ grin on his face… 

 

“You all right, Deputy?” said Hadrian, jolting Ephrim from his thoughts.

 

“Yeah,” Ephrim cleared his throat. “Yes. Why?”

 

“You just look a little flushed, that’s all.”

 

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” said Ephrim.

 

Hadrian raised his hands. “Just checking in. Don’t want you working yourself too hard if you’re feeling under the weather.”

 

Ephrim’s mobile vibrated loudly on his desk and he hastily moved to cover it with one hand. Hadrian raised an eyebrow.

 

“It’s nothing,” said Ephrim quickly, “It’s just Maelgwyn, probably.”

 

Hadrian hummed. He looked as though he would have said more, opening his mouth and then shutting it again as Claret waved to him from the opposite side of the station, trying to get his attention.

 

“I’m fine, Sheriff,” said Ephrim, “really.”

 

Hadrian nodded. Ephrim looked down at the file on his desk, pretending to be absorbed in his work as Hadrian walked away. His eyes drifted to his phone. He probably shouldn’t check the message at work, it was unprofessional and the message probably wasn’t time-sensitive.

 

Ephrim sighed, looking back down at the paperwork in front of him-- a report of a stolen bike-- and then back at the phone. The message probably wasn’t time-sensitive but it was also only the work of a moment to look at the message instead of wondering about what it said all day. He unlocked the phone, swiping open the notification.

 

maelgwyn s: Did you want to get coffee? I have a free half hour, I could swing by the station and pick you up ;)

 

Ephrim ran a bright purple nail along the seam of his phone, biting his lip. He looked at the small pile of case folders on his desk.

 

eph: sorry, I have so much to do at work today!! maybe next time you’re in town?

 

As soon as he hit send, he switched his phone to silent, turning it face-down on the desk. No more distractions.

 

\--

 

Maelgwyn frowned down at his phone. He would have tried calling again but he knew it would just go straight to Ephrim’s voicemail, and although it was nice to hear Ephrim’s voice, it wasn’t the same as talking to the man himself.

 

“You’re getting the same frown lines as your father,” said Samot.

 

Maelgwyn snorted. “I am not.”

 

Samot stepped closer, resting his morning coffee cup on the back of the couch and putting his hand on the top of Maelgwyn’s head, an old motion left over from Maelgwyn’s childhood. Maelgwyn swiped his phone closed, then open, then closed again.

 

“Boy trouble?”

 

“No,” said Maelgwyn, “He’s no trouble.”

 

Samot hummed. “I imagine it’s hard to be trouble if you’re an officer of the law.”

 

“He’s a  _ deputy _ ,” said Maelgwyn, “and if you already know then why did you even ask?”

 

“Because I thought you might want to  _ tell  _ me,” said Samot, “instead of letting me rely on gossip.”

 

“You love gossip.”

 

“Only sometimes,” said Samot. 

 

He took his hand off Maelgwyn’s head but stayed leaning against the back of the couch. The house was much quieter when Samothes was at work, the only sound coming the ticking of the hallway clock.

 

Maelgwyn sighed. “We text all the time, and he seems like he’s into it, but when I ask if he wants to meet up he gets all weird about it.”

 

“Maybe he doesn’t want to commit to driving all the way out to Marielda,” said Samot, “Some people can be very odd about distance.” He paused. “He’s working today, isn’t he?”

 

Maelgwyn nodded, turning the phone over in his hand.

 

“You should go visit him,” said Samot.

 

Maelgwyn made a face. “Just show up? What if he doesn’t want to see me?”

 

“Then he’s a fool,” said Samot. “Besides, your father and I used to do it all the time, back when we--”

 

“ _ Please _ do not finish that thought,” said Maelgwyn.

 

Samot laughed and kissed the top of Maelgwyn’s head. “Alright, alright. But you should go visit him. Then at least you’ll know, instead of sulking around the house.”

 

“I am  _ not  _ sulking.”

 

“Pouting around the house then,” said Samot.

 

“I am  _ not _ \-- whatever,” said Maelgwyn, “I’m going to go for a drive.”

 

“Say hi to Sheriff Hadrian when you stop by the station for me,” said Samot mildly.

 

Maelgwyn waved a hand behind him as he pushed open the door. Before it closed behind him, he heard his dad’s FaceTime ringing, and his father’s delighted laughter in response.

 

\--

 

Ephrim had been working solidly for most of the morning as people trickled into the station to begin their day. Occasionally his hand would go to his phone but so far he’d managed to resist turning it over to see the screen. He typed up reports, cleared out his email, deleted all but one of his voicemail messages. He stretched his arms above his head, then reached for another file. He had time to knock out one more thing before lunch.

 

Hadrian poked his head out of his office. “Deputy, do you have a minute?”

 

“Sure,” said Ephrim, “what’s--”

 

Maelgwyn stepped out of the doorway, holding two takeaway coffee cups. Ephrim stood up, his chair making a scraping noise at the sudden movement.

 

“I know you said you were too busy to go out for coffee, so I thought I’d bring the coffee to you,” said Maelgwyn.

 

His voice sounded less brash than it had at the park, warmer than it had over voicemail. He held out one of the cups to Ephrim. Ephrim took it, looking down at the cup in his hands and back up to Maelgwyn again.

 

“I am busy, very busy, I, um…” he trailed off, looking behind Maelgwyn to Hadrian.

 

“Take a break, Deputy,” said Hadrian, stepping back into his office.

 

“You heard the boss,” said Maelgwyn.

 

“I…” Ephrim ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, okay.”

 

They walked together in silence, their breath fogging the air as they went out into the parking lot. Maelgwyn walked with a purpose in mind, and Ephrim realised they were heading to what was probably his car. The idea of sitting in the confined space of a car with Maelgwyn made Ephrim feel hot and twitchy despite the cool morning air.

 

“Wait,” said Ehrim, stopping suddenly, “can we just-- I really am busy, can we just stay here?”

 

Maelgwyn looking back, slowing his steps. “Sure. Do you wanna--?”

 

He gestured towards the bench that ran along the side of the station. Ephrim nodded. They sat in silence for a moment and Ephrim took a sip of his coffee, looking at Maelgwyn out of the corner of his eye. Maelgwyn shivered.

 

“Oh,” said Ephrim, “here, let me--”

 

Ephrim took off his thick deputy’s jacket, draping it over Maelgwyn’s shoulders.

 

Maelgwyn pulled slightly at the collar, stopping it from slipping off his shoulders. “This is very official for someone who doesn’t have time to go on a date.”

 

Ephrim felt heat flame in his cheeks, rolling the coffee cup between his palms. “I-- Well, I-- Now listen, I am very official-- and you’re an official person too, so, it’s--”

 

Maelgwyn turned to face Ephrim fully, his face serious. “Hey. That was, um, a joke. If you don’t actually want to go on a date you can just say. I just thought--”

 

“No,” said Ephrim quickly, looking up at him, “No, I do, it’s just--”

 

Maelgwyn leant forward, sliding his hair into Ephrim’s hair to bring him forward into a kiss. Ephrim gasped. Maelgwyn deepened the kiss, plucking the coffee cup from Ephrim’s hands and setting it down beside them so that he could move closer. 

 

Ephrim’s hands fluttered for a moment before sliding under Maelgwyn’s borrowed jacket, pulling their bodies together. Despite the cold air, his body was warm under Ephrim’s hands and where he was pressed against Ephrim’s chest. Maelgwyn made an approving noise, moving to kiss along Ephrim’s jaw.

 

“Wait,” gasped Ephrim, “Wait wait wait--”

 

Maelgwyn pulled back, his hand still loosely tangled in Ephrim’s hair, his cheeks flushed and a little out of breath.

 

“What about, you know,” said Ephrim, “your dad being the mayor.”

 

Maelgwyn made a face. “What does this have to do with my father?”

 

“I mean, it’s sort of a big deal, isn’t it,” said Ephrim, stumbling a little over his words, “with him being the mayor.”

 

“My dads are influential guys but they don’t actually pass laws who’s dating me,” said Maelgwyn, leaning in to kiss Ephrim again.

 

Ephrim let himself get swept up in the heat of it for a moment, letting the slick slide of Maelgwyn’s tongue in his mouth and the pull of Maelgwyn’s hands in his hair drive all other thoughts from his head. Maelgwyn pushed forward, pinning Ephrim between him and the hard wooden slats of the bench and Ephrim twisted his hand in the fabric of Maelgwyn’s thin shirt, keeping him pulled close.

 

A truck drove by, the loud rush of sound reminding Ephrim that they were, in fact, still outside.

 

“Hey, uh, this is good. But, uh,” Ephrim pulled back and put a hand on Maelgwyn’s chest, “isn’t this gonna be in the local paper and stuff?”

 

Maelgwyn pressed a kiss to Ephrim’s neck, humming against his skin. Ephrim flushed. 

 

“Yeah, you’re right,” said Maelgwyn. “This is probably more the sort of thing for after your shift ends. If, you know, you’re not too busy.”

 

“I’m not,” Ephrim gasped as Maelgwyn nipped at his neck, “I’m not busy.”

 

Maelgwyn pulled back, taking a breath in through his nose. “Good.”

 

He stood up, slowly put his arms through the sleeves of the jacket to wear it fully instead of like a cape. He held out his hand and Ephrim took it, keeping their fingers tangled together until they reached Maelgwyn’s car.

 

“I’ll call you, when my shift is over today,” Ephrim said

 

He ran his thumb over Maelgwyn’s knuckles. 

 

Maelgwyn nodded, smiling the shit-eating grin he’d worn in the park. “If it’s even ten minutes after three PM, I  _ will  _ call my dads.”

 

He leant down to press another kiss on Ephrim’s lower neck just above the collar, too slow to feel entirely chaste.

 

“Okay, bye Deputy,” Maelgwyn said, lowering himself into his car and starting the vehicle.

 

“Yeah,” Ephrim responded. He shook himself. “Yes, goodbye.”

 

He watched Maelgwyn ride out of the parking lot, taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair before walking back inside, trying to carry the air of a man who hadn’t just frantically made out with someone outside their workplace. He almost made it all the way to his desk before someone looked up.

 

Hadrian glanced up from the cup of coffee he was pouring. “Lost your jacket, Deputy?”

 

Ephrim’s hands went to his shoulders and he felt his face heat up. He hadn’t even thought about the fact that it was  _ his jacket _ . 

 

Hadrian laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure he’ll take good care of it until you see him again. Which’ll be soon, I imagine.”

 

Ephrim felt a slow smile creep over his face and he ducked his head. “Yeah. Yeah I think it will be.”

 

\--

 

“Nice jacket,” said Samot,  as soon as Maelgwyn walked in the door.

 

“It is, isn’t it,” said Maelgwyn, grinning so wide his cheeks ached.


	5. Hadrian & Rosana

_ Twenty years ago, or thereabouts: _

Rosana liked the new sheriff's deputy  _ very _ much. She'd seen him quite a few times at the school. She hadn't been able to speak to him for long enough to get his name or learn much of anything about him-- he'd mumble something about checking on the school's security before quickly finding somewhere else to be. She'd thought for a little while he must have had a child at the school he was checking up on, but Alyosha assured her that Hadrian was there for another reason entirely. This statement was accompanied by a  _ very  _ unsubtle look at her over his glasses. 

 

Rosana had rolled her eyes. And then the next day, Officer Hadrian was back again, waving at her across the courtyard before blushing furiously and walking back the way he'd come. 

 

And Rosana had thought,  _ oh. Maybe.  _

 

Her friends teased her about it, elbowing her in the side whenever they saw any sheriff's vehicle regardless of whether they could see Hadrian inside it or not. Victoria, when they talked on the phone, joked about it, saying Rosana was playing very much to type.

 

Rosana supposed it was true, as far as gravitating towards straightlaced, rule follower types was concerned, but the moment she decided she liked Hadrian (or, more accurately, the moment she felt something warm uncurl in the sudden tightness of her chest, the moment that made her duck her head quickly so people wouldn't see her wide, goofy smile) was when she'd seen him on the street, crouching down to shake hands with the mayor's grandson and coaxing a broad smile from the usually-serious Maelgwyn.

 

She hadn’t been in town long, but Maelgwyn was one of her students, so she knew him fairly well. He spotted her across the street while his fathers talked to Hadrian, waving frantically at her until she crossed the road.

 

She wasn’t doing it to get a chance to talk to the handsome officer, she told herself firmly. Maelgwyn was her student, and bonding with students was an important part of the teaching process.

 

“Hello, Miss Rosana!” chirped Maelgwyn.

 

Rosana smiled down at him. “Hello, Maelgwyn. Are you having a nice weekend?”

 

Maelgwyn nodded enthusiastically. His fathers broke off their conversation to smile down at him. Samot put a hand on Maelgwyn’s head, and Maelgwyn looked up at him.

 

“Miss Rosana is  _ my _ teacher,” said Maelgwyn.

 

“Yes,” said Samot, “I believe we met at the most recent parent-teacher evening? Before you took over from Mr. Silas?”

 

Rosana nodded.

 

“And this is my husband Samothes, who  _ couldn’t _ make the parent-teacher evening because he just plain can’t keep track of his work schedule,” said Samot, his words sharp but his smile kind.

 

“I apologise for not being present to hold him back,” said Samothes, “I’m sure Samot was  _ quite _ an introduction to the parents of Hieron.”

 

“It’s always nice to meet a parent who’s enthusiastic about their child’s education,” said Rosana.

 

Samothes gave her a small smile before his eyes slid back to the deputy. “Ah, how rude of me-- have you met our newest officer?”

 

Rosana allowed herself to turn a little towards the deputy. “No, but I feel like I’m about to.”

 

“Junior Deputy Hadrian of the Hieron Sheriff's Department,” said Hadrian.

 

He extended a hand and she shook it, trying not to laugh at the formality of it. Samothes cleared his throat and Hadrian quickly dropped her hand.

 

“Well,” said Samothes, “we won’t keep you. Maelgwyn, say goodbye to Misss Rosana and Deputy Hadrian.”

 

“Bye, Miss Rosana!” said Maelgwyn cheerfully, “bye, Deputy Hadrian!”

 

Samothes and Samot each took hold of one of Maelgwyn’s hands, guiding him along the street in the direction of the park. Hadrian put his hand in his pocket and then took it out, then put it back in again.

 

“So, uh,” said Hadrian. “Have you been in town long?”

 

“A few months,” said Rosana, “I’ve mostly been busy at the school, so I’m still finding out the lay of the land, the places to get good coffee.”

 

“The important things,” said Hadrian, nodding seriously.

 

Rosana laughed, and Hadrian grinned. It was broad and goofy, and the warm-tight feeling settled in Rosana’s chest again.

 

“You know, being in the sheriff’s department I have a lot of inside scoops about the good coffee places,” said Hadrian.

 

Rosana smiled. “Well. You’ll have to show me them sometime.”

 

“I-- yeah, sure,” said Hadrian quickly, “That’d be-- yeah.”

 

Rosana bit her lip, smothering a laugh. “How about I give you my number?”

 

“Sure,” said Hadrian, “and then I’ll call you.”

 

“That is what a phone is for,” said Rosana.

 

Rosana was close enough that she could see a blush spread over his dark skin.

 

“Right,” said Hadrian, “Right, yeah.”

 

Rosana carefully wrote her number down on a scrap of paper from her handbag, letting her hand linger on his when she passed him the paper.

 

Hadrian’s radio gave a burst of static.

 

“I, uh, I have to go, but uh--”

 

“You’ll call me?” said Rosana, not able to keep a laugh out of her voice.

 

“Yes, absolutely,” said Hadrian, walking backwards towards his squad car, “I’ll call you, we’ll get coffee, I--” he tripped on the sidewalk, managing to catch himself. “I will definitely call you.”

 

Rosana smiled, knowing it was wide and goofy but not minding that he could see it.

 

“Looking forward to it.”

 

He did, eventually, call her, the next day in fact, stammering out an apology for not calling sooner and suggesting they get coffee “sometime”. Rosana put forth a time and date, because it seemed like he might need a little help. 

 

“So I’ll see you then?”

 

“Yes,” said Rosana, struggling not to laugh.

 

“Okay,” said Hadrian, "okay, great!”

 

She could picture his blush and wide smile over the phone from his tone of voice. She smiled too, leaning back against her kitchen counter.

 

They met outside the Weaver diner early in the afternoon. Rosana picked a booth in the corner, where they could see out to the small patch of Jacaranda trees growing behind the diner, heavy with spring flowers.

 

They talked a little about the town-- Hadrian had grown up in Hieron and knew and loved every road, house, and tiny park of it. He was curious about her work, about her, asking questions and leaning in to hear her answers.

 

One lingering coffee became two, became dinner, until the diner was closing up around them. 

 

“Wow,” said Hadrian, “I didn't realise it was getting so late, sorry.”

 

Rosana reached out and took one of Hadrian's fluttering hands. “Don't be. I've, um, had a really nice night.”

 

Hadrian looked down at their joined hands, that wide a goofy grin slowly spreading over his face. They kept holding hands until they got to his car, and Rosana was never sorrier about someone's commitment to keeping two hands on the wheel. 

 

“I could, uh, I could walk you to your door?” said Hadrian, hands fidgeting on the wheel.

 

Rosana leaned over and covered one of his hands with her own and he looked over at her sharply.

 

“I’d like that,” said Rosana.

 

They both walked slowly up the small path that led to the steps of Rosana’s house. This time it was Hadrian who reached out and took her hand. Rosana tangled their fingers together, leaning into his side as they walked, wide, goofy grins on both their faces.

 

“So,” said Rosana, once they had reached the front door, “this is me.”

 

Hadrian nodded. His gaze flicked down to their joined hands.

 

“I, um, I hope you had a good time?” said Hadrian.

 

“I did,” said Rosana, “I hope  _ you _ had a good time, too.”

 

“Yes. Absolutely, yes,” said Hadrian.

 

Rosana laughed. “We’ll have to do it again soon.”

 

“I--” Hadrian beamed at her, “Yeah. That sounds good.”

 

“It does,” said Rosana, “Doesn’t it?”

 

She put one hand on his chest, steadying herself and she leant up to kiss him, softly at first, just to test his reaction. Hadrian made a soft, encouraging noise, his mouth opening under hers to let her deepen the kiss. His thumb rubbed a small circle where his hand was resting on her hip.

 

Rosana moved closer, sliding her hand up to the back of Hadrian’s neck, running her fingers through the short hair there. Hadrian shivered, his hand flexing against her side.

 

Rosana leant back, taking a moment to catch her breath. “So. We’ll do this again.”

 

Hadrian blinked at her, looking a bit dazed. “Yeah. As soon as possible.”

 

Rosana laughed, and Hadrian did too, a rich, warm sound. She leant up again, pressing one last, quick kiss to his lips before she opened the door.

 

“Goodnight, Hadrian,” said Rosana.

 

“Goodnight, Rosana,” said Hadrian.

 

She leant back against the door after she had closed it, hearing the crunch of Hadrian’s footstep fade. She put her fingers to her lip, smiling to herself. As soon as possible couldn’t come soon enough.

  
  


_ Present day: _

Hadrian sighed as he pushed the door closed behind him, leaning back on it for a moment and closing his eyes. Taking the early morning shift was good-- it meant he got to take Benjamin to before-school care in the morning and be home to see him after school-- but a full week of morning shifts and one more left to go really took it out of him. He tilted his head back against the door. The house was very quiet without Rosana and Benjamin. 

 

Hadrian sighed, pushing himself off the door, hanging his jacket up and pulling off his shoes before he passed down the corridor towards the kitchen. He wanted to get a start on dinner before Benji got home. 

 

He booted up his laptop, pulling his phone out of his pocket, texting one handed as he got the ingredients for stir fry out of the fridge.

 

_ H: I'm home _

 

It only took a moment for skype to start beeping. Hadrian smiled as he clicked to accept the call, and Rosana's face filled the screen. She was wrapped in the fuzzy green bathrobe he and Benjamin had given her for mother's day, matching the blue headscarf he'd given her for their anniversary the year before, resting her elbows on the table in front of her. 

 

“Hello,” said Hadrian. 

 

“Hi,” said Rosana, voice made tinny by the speakers, “You're home late.”

 

“It's been a  _ day _ ,” said Hadrian, “Maelgwyn stopped by the station today to see Ephrim.”

 

“And I suppose you had nothing to do with that,” said Rosana, grinning at him through the screen.

 

“His dad  _ may  _ have mentioned something to me on the phone,” said Hadrian, “I was just helping to move certain situations along.”

 

Rosana laughed and Hadrian grinned at the screen. 

 

“Maybe you should change your title to Sheriff Matchmaker.”

 

“I don't know what you mean,” said Hadrian.

 

Rosana laughed again. 

 

They chatted as Hadrian chopped vegetables, about Hella (Hadrian was glad she'd worked it out, feelings could be hard but she was always cleverer than people gave her credit for), about work, about the newest town gossip (Hadrian was very glad Fero and Lem had made it somewhere indoors, he did  _ not _ want to get a call out about public indecency, no matter how amusing Rosana found the concept).

 

Even with the static around Rosana’s voice, Hadrian sometimes caught himself about to ask her to pass him a peeler or something from the fridge, falling into the rhythm of their life before he remembered she was half a country away.

 

Hadrian leaned against the counter, raising his voice to speak over the hiss of the wok as he began cooking.

 

“How’s the conference?”

 

Rosana sighed, resting her chin on her hand where she was leaning on the table.

 

“Long.  _ Interesting _ , but long.” She paused. “It’s amazing being about to see and speak to so many people, and I have so many new ideas for the school and what we could do, but… I’ll be glad when I’m home.”

 

“So will I,” said Hadrian.

 

The windchime by the door made a sudden burst of noise, signaling the arrival of Ben as he hit it on his way in. Hadrian heard the loud thumps of his shoes being thrown down by hallway bench. 

 

“There's our boy,” said Rosana fondly.

 

Ben's head popped around the corner a moment later. He dumped his bag down on the floor by the kitchen door. 

 

Hadrian wiped his hands on his apron, stepping forward to hug his son. Ben leaned into his for a moment, then looked around Hadrian to wave at Rosana. 

 

“Hi, mom!”

 

“Hi, sweetie,” said Rosana, “how was school today?”

 

“Good,” said Ben, “We had an excursion to the library, because Dr. Fero was there with the training dogs, and we got to play with the dogs and some of them knew tricks--”

 

Hadrian stepped away, peering into the wok and nodding to himself. Almost done. 

 

“--and then Mr. King helped us find some new books for our home reading projects and Dr Fero got some books to take home too, only he took  _ ages  _ to check his out--”

 

“I'll bet he did,” said Hadrian, mostly to himself. Louder he added, “go get washed up for dinner Benji.”

 

Ben hopped down, padding out in sock-covered feet. 

 

Rosana hummed. “Yes, reminds me of how a certain officer kept stopping by to check on the school security.”

 

“Our children’s safety is paramount,” said Hadrian.

 

Hadrian set dinner on the table, settling the laptop down in front of Rosana's usual spot. His left hand rested palm up on his knee throughout dinner, although Rosana wasn't there to hold it. A twenty year habit was hard to shake off in a week. 

 

Ben chattered about his day as they ate, and then between helping Ben with his homework and taking care of a few minor household chores, it was soon time to hustle Ben into bed. Hadrian caught Rosana yawning out of the corner of his eye. He glanced at his watch. 

 

“Must be getting pretty late where you are.”

 

Rosana hummed, her voice echoing strangely off the bathroom tiles.

 

“Are you going to stay for story time?” said Ben around a mouthful of toothpaste. 

 

”I’d never miss story time,” said Rosana, “Not when your father does  _ all _ the voices.”

 

Hadrian sat on the edge of Ben's bed, and Ben rested his head half on Hadrian’s side, half on the pillow. The laptop sat on Ben's bedside table, tilted so that Rosana could see the page and Ben at the same time. 

 

Hadrian opened the book, clearing his throat a little before he began to read. “Professor Dumbledore sent all the Gryffindors back to the Great Hall, where they were joined ten minutes later by....”

 

As always, Ben fell asleep before the end of the chapter. Hadrian crept out of the room, picking up the laptop and carefully leaving Ben's door slightly ajar. 

 

He scrubbed a hand over his face, carrying the laptop back down the passage to their bedroom. Rosana yawned. 

 

“It must be very late where you are by now,” said Hadrian. 

 

“It is,” said Rosana, “but I can stay on a little longer.”

 

Hadrian smiled at the screen. They fell into companionable silence as Hadrian brushed his teeth. Rosana stepped away from the screen for a moment, switching off her main light, the screen’s view wobbling for a moment as she carried her own laptop into the bathroom to do the same. 

 

Hadrian set his laptop down on the bed to change for bed. As he turned to reach for his pajama top, Rosana whistled. Hadrian turned back to the screen to see Rosana's broad grin, illuminated on her end by her hotel's bedside lamp. He grinned back at her, pulling a slightly exaggerated flexing pose before slipping on his shirt.

 

He sat the laptop down on Rosana's side of the bed, climbing in beside it. He kissed the tips of two of his fingers and held them up to the screen. 

 

“Your flight gets in late, right?” 

 

Rosana nodded, covering a yawn with her hand. She mirrored his earlier motion, kissing two fingertips and holding them up to the screen. 

 

“Good night, Hadrian. See you tomorrow.”

 

“See you tomorrow, Rosana. Goodnight.”

 

Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much to everyone who left kudos, commented, and tweeted at us about this fic!!! It means so much to both of us.http://archiveofourown.org/works/11596578/chapters/new#

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins | madelinestarr


End file.
